


King and Lionheart

by stylinsoncity



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha Harry, Alpha Liam, Alpha Niall, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Beta Zayn, Knotting, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Louis, Romance, Rutting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-01-09 20:32:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 46,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylinsoncity/pseuds/stylinsoncity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis can't remember a time when he didn't hate being an omega. But maybe he just needed Harry to come along and make him his.</p><p>Title taken from "King and Lionheart" by Of Monsters and Men.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Português brasileiro available: [King and Lionheart (Versão em Português)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5572564) by [hecant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hecant/pseuds/hecant)



 

 

_As the world comes to an end, I’ll be here to hold your hand._

_'Cause you’re my king and I’m your lionheart._

_-Of Monsters and Men_

Even with all the money and the fame, Louis still considered the best days of his life to be the ones right before he hit puberty. In those days, he was better than any alpha, omega or beta. In those days, things like alphas, omegas and betas didn’t even matter. He was just a kid. He had his family and friends and an endless supply of cookies. He could play football with the other boys and not have to worry about one of them catching a whiff of him. That was how it happened, actually. How he came to understand just what this all meant.

It was one day a few months after he’d turned fourteen. He’d been playing football with the lads from his sports club, a few parents watching from the sidelines, including his own mum. Spring had officially started only a few days ago, and in fact, that day was the warmest it had been in a long time. Louis would learn later that the combination of warm weather and strenuous activity made the situation even more likely to unfold the way it did.

He had been lining up for a perfect goal, knowing that this next kick would send the ball home. He’d arched his leg back, when out of _fucking nowhere_ came this stocky guy just a bit taller than Louis wrapping his big buff arms around Louis’ torso and tackling him to the ground. The air flew from Louis’ lungs. It took him a few seconds to regain consciousness and then he was hissing, “What the fuck are you doing?” Clearly this bloke didn’t know shit about playing European football, and worse, he’d just ruined Louis’ perfect kick.

“Get the fuck off of me,” Louis snapped, trying to wriggle free. That was when a sudden smell hit him _hard_ and Louis’ nostrils flared involuntarily, seeking its source and finding that it came from the one perched atop him, panting heavily, sweat dripping from his forehead. Suddenly, Louis could feel the hard ridge of the boy’s penis, jerking up stiffly against his thigh, and Louis finally made eye contact with him and saw the way his pupils had become two black saucers. And as if to confirm his fears, the boy moaned loudly for everyone to hear, “You smell so fucking good.”

It took five boys to tear that kid off of Louis. Five other alphas to be exact. Their coach had called the game off, fooling most of the parents into believing that some of the kids had fallen ill. But Louis watched from his place on the bench as the coach spent a little bit longer talking to his mum. He didn’t know what they were saying. He just knew it couldn't be good, and he brought his knees up to his chest, rested his forehead against them, and tried very hard not to cry.

“Louis,” his mum said soothingly only moments later. Her shadow loomed over him, the fading sun igniting her brown hair. He looked up, frowning.

“Am I off the team?” he asked straight away.

Johannah smiled sadly at him, “No, love. Come on. We’ve got to stop somewhere before we head home.”

He didn’t ask any other questions. He got into the car, resting his head against the window, and wondered briefly what they were doing when they pulled into a Tesco’s.

“Do you need me to come in?” Louis asked when they had parked.

His mum shook her head. “No, I’ll only be a minute.” She exited and sure enough, returned shortly afterwards, carrying a small brown paper bag. She got into the car and placed the bag in his lap. Louis looked at her in confusion and then slipped his hand into the bag and withdrew an orange prescription bottle.

“What is this?” Louis asked, his body filling quickly with dread. He already knew.

His mum turned to him, sighed. “They’re suppressants, Louis.”

“Why?” he said a little angrily.

“It’s to prevent something happening again like what happened today.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” Louis said enunciating his words, “that stupid kid _tackled_ me.”

“He was in a rut,” Johannah said, “I told you about this. It’s when—“

“I know what a rut is,” Louis snapped, “Does that excuse what he did? Does that mean this is my fault?”

“No,” she said sharply turning to him, “this is not your fault. You don’t understand, Lou. This isn’t a punishment. This is protection. Now that you’ve come of age, your body is changing. You’re already starting to give off a scent, one that alphas can easily pick up on. And soon enough, you’ll start going into heats.”

 _“No,”_ Louis said. He couldn’t help it. His eyes were beginning to burn with tears. “Mum, please,” he said as if she could make this go away. He knew that if she could, she would simply because he was unhappy. Everything she ever did was to make him happy.

“Lou,” she said, petting the back of his head.

“I don’t want to be like this,” Louis mumbled, letting a few tears fall, “I don’t want to cause problems. I just want to be normal.”

“Why on earth would you want to be normal? You’re so spectacular, Louis Tomlinson. I’m so proud of you, proud to have you just the way you are,” she said softly, still brushing her hands through his hair.

“You’re just saying that cus you’re my mum,” He sniffed.

“I’m saying that because it’s true. You are who you are because there’s no one else like you. The world doesn’t need more of the same,” she said, wiping a tear from his face.

Louis took a deep shaky breath but stopped crying. He wiped his sleeve under his nose. It came away wet and a little gross. Johannah reached into her purse for a few napkins she'd been storing and handing him a stack.

Louis blew his nose while she went on, “I saw that kick you were lining up for before that silly boy lost his senses. Your form was excellent, anyone could see.”

Louis almost smirked. “But they were all probably too distracted by the boy trying to impregnate me,” Louis said morbidly and shivered, sticking out his tongue.

Johannah chuckled lightly, “Well, I bet you’ll really show them next time.”

“So, there will definitely be a next time? I can still play?” Louis asked, his eyes bright and wide.

“Yes, but,” she said, tapping the bottle in his hand, “You’ll have to take these.”

Louis frowned but he slipped the brown paper bag into his own sports bag, and then sat back with a heavy sigh.

“It gets easier, dear. Once you’ve found yourself a nice lad to mate with—“

“Ew, no,” Louis said, cringing. His mum laughed drawing him closer and planting a kiss on his head. Then she began to pull out of the car park.

In truth, Louis had lied to her that night. He wanted to be completely grossed out by the idea of mating. But he wasn’t. Even when that awful boy had resorted to dry-humping his leg, Louis had felt an answering heat beginning to simmer deep in his gut. And no, Louis would have never consented to that guy sticking any part of him in his bum. But the thought of someone, someday taking him in that way…well, it made him feel things he was still a little afraid to feel.

Louis didn’t play football with those boys for long. He desperately wanted to and took his pills everyday like he was told. But the secret was out and even though the suppressants worked to counteract the natural mating call that was his pheromones, the alphas in the club already knew what he was and most of them wanted him solely for that reason.

But he dealt with it. He dealt with the way his friend Stan sometimes got a little twitchy around him or the way Louis caught him imperceptibly sniffing the air for Louis’ scent. He dealt with his heats, the first of which hit him like a fucking freight train, crippling him with need and making him soak through his pants. His mum had showed up that night with another brown paper bag. Louis withdrew the contents with shaky hands, finding a box of pads that he groaned at and…a butt plug. He’d stared at it, wordlessly.

“I know this is embarrassing,” his mum had said as she began backing out of his room, “but let’s just not talk about it. You just take it and feel better and we’ll act like this never happened.” Then she was gone. He was embarrassed, of course, but he also needed to be filled up so badly that he wasted no time putting it to use. That was how he spent his heats from that moment onward, curled up in bed with a hand wrapped around his cock and the plug tucked up his arse.

Louis dealt with it all and never let it hold him back, desperate to prove himself to anyone who dared to belittle him for who he was. Years later, in spring, he decided to try something no omega in their right mind would think to try. Something like X-factor. It would make him vulnerable in a way the football club never did. If he made it through, he’d have to spend nights sleeping with other boys, some of whom were alphas. He'd be unprotected and on his own. He just couldn’t bring himself to care. Also he doubted he would make it very far anyway.

But then--then he did. He made it through auditions and though he thought he'd failed, he made it through to judge's houses alongside four other boys, then to finals, and after more failure intermixed with more progress, it felt as though one day he looked up and suddenly, he’d made it onto the stage at Madison Square Garden as 1/5 of One Direction.

While being an omega still seemed like a burden, he figured out how to handle it better. The unbelievable sum of money he made ensured that he could afford a top-quality suppressant shot every month, instead of having to pop cheap pills every day. And he only ever went into heat every three months for three days, which he spent at home away from Harry, Liam, and Niall, who he trusted but alphas were still alphas at the end of the day. The boys respected Louis’ in a way that most alphas didn’t and before he knew it, he’d found a family in them. And he was never going to let being an omega ruin that.

That was what he told himself until the day the “new and improved” suppressant shot he’d been given sent him spiraling arse over tit into his heat, four weeks too early. It was a disastrous miscalculation in the formula and Louis had to suffer for it. Louis, who was stuck in a tour bus with three alphas. Louis, who didn’t have his goddamn butt plug. Louis who was now lying on the floor of the tiny bathroom, sucking in big gulps of air, and sliding his shaky hands past the waistband of his briefs. Louis, who was so unbelievably fucked.

And Harry who found him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my first ABO verse fic and I don't know what I'm doing so I'm sorry if it is bad. I also apologize if the small bit about the X-Factor was incorrect. I tried to do a bit of research but, yeah..
> 
> Anyway, I'm aiming for this to be about five chapters, give or take. We'll see!!
> 
> Thanks for any kudos or comments or whatever! =)


	2. Chapter 2

Harry was bringing another handful of popcorn to his mouth when the scent hit him. Though it was probably more correct to say the scent backhanded him and made him its bitch. It had him by the cock and on his feet in record time. Probably, Harry had never moved that quickly in his life. Then he remembered the other lads crowded around the television.

Harry slowly handed Zayn the popcorn. “Gonna run to the loo,” he whispered. Zayn simply nodded. Harry attempted to creep away quietly, hoping the film would keep everyone distracted. But he knew it didn’t work that way. There were very few things in the world that could distract an alpha from the scent of an omega in heat. And even “very few” was an overstatement.

The Hunger Games was only about thirty minutes in and Niall was visibly asleep. Harry didn’t have to worry about Zayn since he was a beta and not as inclined to bury himself in Louis’ arse. But Liam could be a problem. He was currently mumbling something about how ridiculous this was, even though everyone knew that Zayn absolutely hated when people talked during movies.

“The odds of Prim getting picked are probably, like, one in a million,” Liam was saying, “this is so ridiculous. Harry—” Liam said seeking his agreement as he turned and found Harry’s seat deserted. And it was as though just the act of turning his head had the scent slapping Liam around too. His mouth went slack and his dark eyes darted over to where Harry was standing a few feet away.

“What the fuck is that?” Liam asked, his voice low.

“Dunno,” Harry lied. Liam began to stand. Harry put his hands out in a gesture for him to stop, “I’ll take care of it.”

“What do you mean ‘I’ll take care of it’?” Liam said, eyebrows creasing. He stood. “Why are you taking care of it? Why shouldn’t I take care of it? Why are we referring to Louis as it?” Liam said, moving closer to Harry.

Zayn, who’d been tuning the sound of Liam’s voice out for the last thirty minutes, finally seemed to realize that they were both talking. He huffed loudly, “You two are the worst people to watch a movie with.”

“Louis’ my best friend. I get on better with him, everyone knows that,” Harry said.

“So, logically, that means you should fuck him,” Liam replied, placing his hands on his hips in that authoritative stature he often tried to exhibit.

“I’m not going to do that,” Harry said, running his hand through his hair. “Just, please, Li. Go talk to Paul, let him know what’s happening. Please.”

Liam didn’t move for a long time until it began to annoy Harry and tug on the primal part of him that didn’t like another alpha so close, exerting dominance. Most times, Harry was called the “nice” alpha, because he didn’t go around flaunting his strength or virility. He knew that he could and probably would if (1) he hadn’t been raised by his mum to know better, and (2) he didn’t keep that part of him locked away tight. But times like these, times when Liam was standing in front of him, challenging him , Harry thought he’d really like to just let go and show everyone how “nice” of an alpha he could be.

“I’m asking nicely,” Harry said quietly, leaving it for Liam to interpret that however he wanted. Liam stared at him for two seconds longer and seemed to decide then that none of this was worth it to see Harry angry.

“Fine. But I need to get off this bus. And so will Niall when he wakes up,” Liam said finally. "It's stifling in here."

Zayn was staring at them now, his eyebrows furrowed. “What’s going on?”

“Louis' in heat,” Harry said, “I’m going to help him.”

“Oh,” Zayn said, pausing the movie. “I’ll help subdue the beasts then.” Liam grumbled complaints as he began walking toward the front of the bus. Zayn simply rolled his eyes.

“Thank you,” Harry said. He sucked in one last breath of less oppressive air and then he started towards Louis.

The scent grew impossibly stronger as Harry drew nearer to the back of the bus. He could faintly hear the wet slapping of skin that could only be Louis jacking off. Harry pressed his back against the opposite side of the bus, trying to calm himself a bit. He took a deep breath, which was just the stupidest thing he could have done. Really. He cringed, feeling himself harden in his trousers. He really wished he'd burned every fucking pair of skinny jeans he owned.

He pushed himself off the wall but froze when he heard the sound of Louis crying very, very softly. Harry didn’t know what to make of that. Horny, he could handle. Horny and sad was a disaster in the making. It broke Harry's heart, and miraculously through the haze of his arousal, he found it in himself to focus on the part of him that was solely Louis’ friend. He wasn’t here to fuck Louis. In fact, if Louis didn’t want him to, he wouldn’t touch him at all. Deep down past his ridiculously hard cock, he really only wanted to help.

He knocked lightly on the door. “Louis.”

He heard Louis’ sharp intake of breath and a beat of silence later, he was mumbling, “Please go away, Harry.”

“Let me help you,” Harry tried.

“How?” Louis groaned. “How do you want to help?”

Harry couldn’t answer that honestly. This wasn’t about him and the myriad of things he wanted to do to Louis right now. “However you want me to help,” he said instead.

“Would you fuck me?” Louis said.

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat, curled his hand into a fist. “If that’s what you want,” he said.

Louis moaned and Harry heard another distinctively different sound, wetter than the sound of Louis’ hand on his cock, and Harry imagined Louis fingering himself. He bit into his lip so hard he could taste blood.

“I’m sorry,” Louis said.

“What are you apologizing for, Lou?”

“I bet I’ve got you and Liam and Niall all out of sorts,” he said, gasping, choking on a sob.

“No,” Harry said. There was a very sick part of him that revelled in the idea of Louis crying while being penetrated. Harry almost wanted to be the one making him cry. But that was an awful idea and Harry was awful for thinking it. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Jesus, Harry,” Louis said suddenly. The rhythm he’d been maintaining as he stroked himself seemed to speed up. “I’m just so—” Louis grunted and gasped. “So hot and so fucking wet.” He released a loud sob and Harry was sure he’d just come all over himself.

Harry thought maybe he should start crying too because nothing about this was fair. “Louis, I might break the door down.”

He could hear Louis make a choked sound that sounded a bit like laughter. He heard the lock turn and then Louis shuffling away from the door. So Harry pushed it open.

Nothing could prepare him for the way all five of his senses were assaulted right then. The sight of Louis, sitting on the floor, legs spread with his cock in his hand made his mouth go dry. There was come on his blue shirt. One hand was visibly tucked up under his bum, his fingers probably still pressed into his hole. And the smell of him, the earthy, musky scent had that primitive being in Harry clawing its way out.

“Louis,” he breathed.

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” Louis responded weakly, which they both knew was bullshit because even as he said it, his legs inched open a little wider. If Louis didn’t want Harry to see him like this, he would have kept the door locked.

“Yes, you do,” Harry said and it came out sounding a bit harsher than he wanted it to. He couldn’t help himself. He was losing all sense of cordiality. He tried to make his voice softer, “What do you want me to do?”

“You’re the alpha,” Louis panted, “Do what you want with me.” And that obliterated every bit of self-control Harry had left, which wasn't a lot. He grabbed Louis by the ankle, pulling him so that he was no longer leaning up against the shower door. Harry had him on his back instantly and was climbing over him, grinding his hips down into Louis’, when there was a knock at the door.

“Please fuck off,” Harry growled, which was so unlike him that he could hear Louis’ breath hitch. Louis was suddenly rutting up against him, trying to create friction for his aching cock, and moaning like it was his first language.

“Sorry, Haz,” Zayn said from behind the door, “Paul told me to tell you both that we’re stopping at a hotel about two minutes away. Louis can wait out the night there and then we’ll have someone take him home in the morning.” When Harry didn’t respond, Zayn asked, “did you get all that?”

Harry really wanted him to go away but it wasn’t Zayn’s fault that his cock was about to explode. With his head turned away from Louis and inclined towards the door, he wasn’t prepared for when Louis licked a hot trail from his collarbone, up the side of his neck before settling his mouth on Harry’s ear.

“Fuck me,” Louis breathed into his ear. Clearly, he couldn’t give two shits about what Zayn was saying either.

“Jesus,” Harry hissed, turning back to face Louis. Their mouths connected sloppily. Louis moaned into the kiss, licking and slurping at Harry’s tongue hungrily.

“Harry, I’m really not trying to disturb you, mate,” Zayn said, sounding genuinely apologetic, “but we’re pulling up to that hotel now. You have to be decent. Both of you.”

Harry groaned. He was so far gone. What the hell did decent even mean?

“Remember, you’re his best friend, just trying to help him,” Zayn said quietly, “That’s what you said.”

“I know what I said,” Harry groaned, burying his face into the side of Louis’ neck. He hated talking to Zayn like this. He hated everything about this situation because he’d wanted this for so long. He’d wanted this all those times when he and Louis had snuggled and pretended they weren’t both hiding semis. Each time Louis petted his curls or scratched his tummy. Or whenever they shared a hotel room and Louis’ scent, faint though it may have been, lingered in the air.

He wanted this just because it was Louis. Not because he was an omega. Not because he was leaking everywhere and Harry could actually taste his slick on the tip of his tongue. And certainly not because Louis smelled like the sweet lovechild of heaven and earth.

Okay, so maybe partly for those reasons.

But he didn’t want it like this, in a cramped tour bus bathroom. He wanted to look back on tonight and be somewhat proud of what he did.

He pulled away from the warmth of Louis’ neck, feeling him writhing against him, struggling to get closer.

“Harry,” Louis whimpered, rising up and chasing Harry’s mouth with his own.

“Louis, I’m sorry, just let me—”

Louis moaned loudly, “What the fuck is happening?”

Briefly, Harry thought this might be funny if the circumstances weren’t so dire. “We’re at a hotel. I need you to put your pants back on.”

“And I need you to take yours off,” Louis whined.

Harry exhaled loudly, “Okay, I will. I promise I will. But not here.” He turned back to the door. “Zayn, are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here. We’ve parked the bus and everyone’s gotten off except us,” Zayn said and his words had an idea suddenly forming in Harry’s head. Harry peeled himself from Louis’ grasp, having to exert a little force to get Louis to release him. Harry shuffled to the door and parted the door a smidge, enough that he could talk to Zayn directly but not enough that Zayn could see Louis. Zayn must have caught a whiff of Louis when the door opened though because his dark eyes glazed over momentarily. Betas didn’t have the same undying need to mate with an omega in heat. Not like alphas did, anyway. But there wasn’t a beta in the world who could say they hadn’t wished to at some point.

“I can’t get Louis off the bus. Not like this,” Harry said honestly. 

Zayn blinked at him, regaining his senses. “What do you think we should do?”

Louis had somehow gotten his hands on Harry’s zipper and was tugging on it and pushing at his jeans. “Oh my god, why the fuck are these so tiny?” he hissed.

“I think you should leave us on the bus,” Harry said to Zayn.

“How will that look to the hotel staff? You and Louis spending the night on the bus alone? Paul will never agree to that,” Zayn said logically.

“Paul doesn’t have much of a choice,” Harry said.

Zayn stared at Harry for a minute, biting his lip. Then finally he sighed, “I’ll figure it out. I don’t know how but I’ll figure something out.”

“Thanks again, Z,” Harry said to him.

Zayn nodded and was turning away when he stopped, “One more thing, Harry. Don’t pop a knot in him.”

Harry hadn’t even thought about it prior to that moment. It didn’t even occur to him that that would happen if he fucked Louis. Up until now, whenever he was in a rut, he spent his time in his room, rubbing out multiple orgasms but never popping a knot, as though his body detected the absence of anyone to pop a knot for. But now, he would have to pull out before he came or run the risk of impregnating Louis, or more importantly, mating him.

Not that Harry didn’t want to mate Louis.

“Harry,” Zayn said again, his tone a bit more serious.

“No,” Harry said, “I won’t.” But he wasn’t making any promises.

Louis had given up on getting Harry’s jeans off, resorting to his previous method of jacking himself while fucking down on his fingers. It was the most mesmerizing thing Harry had ever seen and for a moment, he just watched. He waited until he knew for sure that Zayn had left and then he stood reached out and scooped Louis up into his arms.

“What—?” Louis questioned incoherently as he was hoisted into the air. But he didn’t protest. He turned his head, biting at the fabric of Harry’s shirt and sucking it into his mouth.

Harry carried Louis to one of the couches lining the walls of the tour bus and lowered Louis down as he climbed over him. Then his mouth was back on Louis’ and his senses were flooded once again. He could do nothing and think nothing that didn’t completely revolve around Louis. He was overwhelmed by an unyielding desire to please Louis, a desire he knew came straight from the alpha within. The alpha that was slowly but surely taking over this situation. And Harry was completely fine with that.

“So, you want me to fuck you?” Harry said, his voice so low even he didn’t recognize it.

“Yes,” Louis gasped, “Please, Harry.” Harry thought for one second he’d like to make Louis beg for it some more. But that was rather selfish. This wasn’t about him and he reminded himself as much.

He quickly removed Louis’ shirt, his track bottoms and his underwear, sliding them down over Louis’ legs and tossing them away like rubbish. His eyes fell on the space between Louis’ legs and the abundance of moisture dripping from him. Harry whipped off his shirt, sliding it under Louis’ bum to keep him from soaking the couch. He was suddenly so thirsty and couldn’t get it out of his mind that Louis’ slick was water. He wanted to spend hours lapping it up. Every drop that Louis’ body produced would be his to devour.

 “Harry,” Louis whined. And Harry’s attention snapped back to the task at hand. He was doing a shit job of taking care of Louis, ironically too distracted by Louis himself.

 Harry pushed his own jeans down to his knees, breathing a sigh of relief when his dick was free of the constricting material. He ran his hand over his hard length, spreading precum down to the base of it, and then he was lining up with Louis’ drenched hole. He nudged forward, marvelling at the way Louis seemed to draw him in deeper. Louis’ hand gripped at the skin at Harry’s hips, his nails digging in as he urged Harry closer.

Harry obliged him, pushing down and down deeper until there was no space left between his hips and Louis’ thighs. And holy _fuck_ , was the sight of his cock buried in Louis’ arse not the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

“Oh my god,” Harry said in disbelief. All of the visions he’d conjured up in his head of this moment paled in comparison to what was actually happening. Every dream he’d had about Louis’ was a fucking joke in light of what he was doing right now.

Louis’ eyes were trained on him, magnificently blue against the flushed skin of his face. Harry held Louis’ gaze as he drew his hips away and drove back into him, working up a nice rhythm. Louis' eyes rolled and his lids fluttered closed.

“You feel so good,” Harry moaned to him, even though Louis was in delirium and words might not have made sense to him at that moment. He wrapped his hand around the back of Louis’ leg, hoisting it up and perching it on his shoulder. Then he gripped Louis’ thigh and began pounding into him, groaning and rotating his hips in hypnotic circles.

Louis’ hand moved further south, resting on the left cheek of Harry’s bum, squeezing and pulling him in harder. It brought a feral growl tearing up from deep in Harry’s chest, making Louis moan louder in response. Harry leaned over, licking into Louis’ mouth as he gasped and sobbed. Louis was bucking his own hips erratically, squeezing Harry’s ass, sucking on his tongue. Harry was tearing him apart, huge cock nudging and prodding his prostate and making his own throbbing dick dribble over with precum. Harry grabbed both of Louis’ legs propping him up and burying himself so deep in Louis’, deeper than Harry even thought possible, and Louis was suddenly crying out and shooting thick bands of cum all over his stomach.

“You’re so fucking good, Louis,” Harry rasped, “So good for me.” He slammed into him, feeling the pressure building up at the base of his own cock, knowing he’d have to draw out of Louis before his knot bound them together. And he began to pull out, when Louis dug his fingernails into Harry’s skin.

“No,” he said hoarsely, the first word he’d spoken in what seemed like a long time. “I want it.”

Well, fuck.

“Louis,” Harry groaned, “don’t—” He wanted to tell Louis not to say that. He wanted to beg him not to because people had it all wrong thinking that omegas lived solely to please their alphas. It was true, actually. But the desire to please worked both ways. Although they weren’t even mated, Harry found it nearly impossible not to do what Louis wished. Especially when his every instinct agreed with Louis.

“I need it,” Louis moaned.

But Harry was still the alpha here. He still had some resistance left. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his cock expanding at the base, and he pulled out swiftly. Louis grabbed for him but Harry was quicker and more levelheaded than he was, moving out of his grasp easily. Harry wrapped one hand around both of their cocks, eagerly pumping them both, working his own orgasm out while simultaneously distracting Louis. For a second, Louis had a discontented crease in his eyebrows, lips curved in an alarmingly cute pout, but Harry’s hand on him eventually won out and soon he was gasping again and thrusting his dick up into Harry’s hand. Harry came with just a few pumps, spurting an ample amount of cum all over his hand and Louis’ stomach and chest. The sight of his throbbing cock hurled Louis into another orgasm.

Louis lay boneless and spent, his chest rising quickly as he tried to steady his racing heart. Harry waited as the rest of his cum flowed out and pooled around his knot. He waited until the knot went down completely and then he went to retrieve cold, wet flannels to wipe Louis down. Louis fell asleep at some point as Harry cleaned them both up. When he’d finished, he hoisted Louis up into his arms and carried him to his bunk. He got cold water and an ice pack and snuggled in beside him, careful not to press too close lest he send Louis into another wave of his heat. Harry spent the night watching Louis while trying to get a bit of sleep himself.

At four in the morning, Harry awoke to Louis clawing and rutting up against him. He was tired but not unbearably so. He settled between Louis’ spread legs, sliding two fingers past Louis’ sodden rim and began to fuck him with just his fingers. Louis urged him on, begging for more until Harry had four fingers buried inside of Louis, entranced by the way Louis clenched around him. He brought Louis off on solely his fingers. But Louis was still somewhat hard. Harry sunk his mouth down around Louis’ cock, working his tongue up Louis’ length. Louis moaned loudly, hands pulling at Harry’s hair. He thrust up into his mouth, hitting the back of his throat repeatedly and Harry focused on breathing through his nose while allowing Louis to do as he pleased, and massaged Louis' thighs in encouragement. When Louis came this time, Harry could feel his hot cum flooding his mouth and he swallowed, sucked and licked Louis dry, peppering kisses on Louis’ shaft reverently.

This seemed to satisfy Louis because moments later, he’d fallen right back to sleep. The next time Harry woke, there was sunlight flowing in from the tinted windows and someone was knocking at the bus door.

Paul told Harry that a car was there to take Louis home. So, Harry got Louis dressed as he slept, trying not to wake him. He packed up Louis’ duffle and slung it over his shoulder. Then he once again lifted Louis into his arms and carried him out to the car. Louis only woke for a minute, mumbling “Haz.”

“Right here, Lou,” Harry said, nuzzling his nose into Louis' hair.

In response, Louis snuggled into his chest. By the time Harry got Louis to the car, he’d drifted off again and Harry buckled him into the backseat without waking him. Later, Harry watched as the car pulled away, headed back to Doncaster.

Harry told himself he was relieved because it was better for everyone that Louis was gone while in heat. But this was a lie. Maybe it was better for Niall and Liam, and even Zayn too. But not for Harry. Harry was already too far gone. All he could think was that Louis would be spending the rest of his heat alone without him and that it shouldn’t be this way. It should be Harry’s job to take care of him. Harry _wanted_ it to be his job.

Harry told himself that he’d done the right thing by depriving Louis of his knot. Maybe he had because Louis wasn't thinking clearly. But that didn’t stop Harry from regretting his decision. Didn’t stop him from wanting to go back to last night, fill Louis to the brim as he came, sink his teeth into his neck and make him undoubtedly and irreversibly _his_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and the kudos and whatever else! =)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Very, very minor, very brief rape mention in this chapter.

It was actually impossible to die from embarrassment. Louis knew because if it _were_ possible, his mum would already be planning his funeral. It was rather unfortunate too because dying and never having to face Harry Styles again seemed like a really good idea.

His mum came into his room on the third day after the “Incident with Harry” (as Louis referred to it in his head) long after the final wave of his heat had dissipated. He was lying shirtless on his bed, watching ridiculous YouTube videos and sipping a cup of Yorkshire tea when she moseyed in.

“All better?” she asked.

He smiled. “Much,” he said, “thank you.”

“Of course,” she sat on the edge of his bed, not at all grossed out by the fact that he’d spent the last two days sweating and ejaculating all over it. Well, maybe she was grossed out. Louis didn’t know for sure. “Harry called while you were sleeping. Said you weren’t answering your mobile.”

“Oh,” Louis said, feigning nonchalance. He cast a cursory glance at his mobile on the bedside cabinet. “I didn’t even know it was ringing.” But he did. He’d watched it ring seven times, and yes, he’d been counting.

“Said he texted too. He thinks you’re ignoring him,” she added, folding her hands in her lap.

“I’m not,” Louis said into his cup. He felt her staring at him.

“But why would Harry _think_ you were ignoring him?” his mum asked.

He shrugged, “Harry is perpetually in a state of paranoia. He’s always worrying and apologizing even when he’s done nothing wrong.”

Johannah pursed her lips. “And this has nothing to do with you sleeping with him?”

Louis choked, sitting up quickly so he wouldn’t spill his tea. He placed his cuppa down and had to cough a few times before he could speak. Even then all he managed to croak out was, “what?”

“I think you should know better than to think you could hide this from me,” she said, pursing her lips.

“Did he tell you that?” Louis asked, trying to sound outraged but really just hiding how nervous he was.

She rolled her eyes. “No.”

“Then what has you so convinced?”

She moved closer to him. He resisted the urge to scoot away. “I’ll tell you a secret,” she said, “I know that you’ve never been happy about being who you are. But for me, when the doc told me you were an omega, I got a bit overexcited.” She smiled proudly. “I started reading books and watching documentaries and learning all that I could—”

“Why is this a secret?” Louis said.

Johannah sighed. “The secret is that I understand your body a little better than you do,” she said, sounding smug, and when Louis looked at her like she’d grown antlers, she added, “Your heat lasted two days, Louis.”

“No, it didn’t. It’s been three days,” Louis argued.

“No, your last wave ended at 1 a.m. this morning,” Johannah said. Louis didn’t even want to think about how she knew that. “You started your heat around midnight two days ago. So yes, technically, it lasted till the third day but really it’s only been a little over 48 hours.”

“What are you saying?” Louis huffed, exasperated. His mother was clearly mad.

“I’m saying,” she looked him full in the eye, “being with an alpha dramatically shortens the length of an omega’s heat. You may be on those wonky suppressants but there’s just no way they could stop your heat this early. That combined with the fact that Harry has been calling here like a lost pup…”

She stopped talking, seeing the way Louis’ entire face had flushed pink with embarrassment. “Oh, Louis,” she said and placed a hand on his knee, “Frankly, I don’t know why you wouldn’t tell me. Finding a mate is fantastic news.”

“I haven’t,” Louis said, not looking her in the eye.

Johannah huffed loudly, “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Harry’s wonderful.”

“No,” Louis groaned, falling back on his bed dramatically. He sucked in a big breath of air. “I didn’t mate with Harry. He just…he helped me out. We didn’t…He didn’t actually do, you know, the thing.” He grabbed a pillow and put it over his face. Again, if it were possible to die of embarrassment, Louis had no chance of surviving.

His mum was quiet for a long time until finally he heard her say, “ _Oh_.”

Louis wondered how hard he’d have to press on the pillow in order to cut off his oxygen supply.

“Would you stop trying to kill yourself?” she said, taking the pillow from him.

He frowned up at the ceiling.

“In any case, Louis, you should ring him back,” Johannah said and Louis couldn’t help but hear the disappointment in her voice.

“Are you upset with me?” Louis asked.

She shook her head. “Not upset. But I wish you would take this more seriously. What if Harry expects things now, one thing in particular?” Like them actually mating.

“Harry’s not like that,” Louis scoffed.

She gave him a look. “Harry is an alpha.”

“Yeah, but…” He trailed off, not completely believing the words forming on his tongue.

“If you don’t want it to be like that, tell him so,” she said, “and if you want to talk about it in person, at least send him a text and let him know you’re alright. If he rings the house again, I’ll make this very awkward for everyone involved.” She slapped him on the thigh as she stood. “And take a shower.”

Louis sat there a little while after she left, glancing at his phone every now and then. He finally grabbed it from the bedside cabinet and began carting through his messages. There was one from each of the guys, wishing him well and hoping to see him soon, and then, ten from Harry.

_Hi .xx_

_Hope you’re feeling better .x_

_Call me when you get a chance._

_Actually you don’t have to call if you don’t want to._

_It would be nice to know you aren’t dead._

_Talked to ur mum. Good to know you’re alive. =)_

_I feel like you’re upset with me._

_Are you in pain?_

_Louiiiiiissssss._

_I’m really sorry._

The last one left Louis feeling gutted. It was ridiculous that Harry often apologized when he’d done nothing wrong. Especially in this situation, what Harry had done was a favor. He’d given Louis what he’d begged for.

 _Cried_ for.

Louis made a noise of disgust. He was tired of being an omega and being weak. He’d never wanted Harry to see him that. So, while he was glad that if anyone found him it was Harry, all he could think was that this had changed everything. He feared that from now on Harry would only be able to see him as the omega who’d begged to be taken.

Louis had serious issues with pride.

He took a deep breath, tapped out a message.

_Sorry. Been a bit out of it. I feel fine. I’ll see you tomorrow. x_

And then,

_You’ve got no reason to be sorry._

He sent it quickly before he could think better of it. He powered down his mobile, tucked it under his pillow and went to take a shower. Standing in the mirror after he’d finished, Louis noticed his skin had a healthier glow to it. It could have been his imagination but if he let himself believe it had anything to do with Harry, he began to feel heat rushing to his cheeks. He braced himself against the sink, trying to calm down, trying not to conjure up images of Harry gripping his thighs and plunging into him. Before he returned to his room, he splashed cold water on his reddened face and neck.

His mum had changed his sheets and placed the mobile back on the cabinet, along with a yellow sticky note that read, “Turning it off won’t fix your problems.”

He sighed as he tossed the crumpled note into the rubbish bin.

* * *

 

The glow Louis thought he was sporting was gone by the next morning. He didn’t know how he felt about that. But it was probably better that Harry couldn’t see the affect he’d had on Louis’ body.

Louis pulled a beanie down over his ridiculous hair, confident that Lou could fix it up later. He put on a pair of black trackies, his Vans, and a gray t-shirt. He stared at himself in the mirror, made a few silly faces to get a smile going, and grabbed his keys.

The drive to London was always a pain in the ass. The alternative was getting a place somewhere closer but his mum had sternly warned him about the dangers of an omega living alone. Most were raped and knotted before they could even have a proper housewarming. So while he could think of a million other things he’d rather be doing for three hours than sitting in traffic, he also understood why it was necessary. Besides, it gave him time to think about what he would say to Harry.

“Hey, mate,” Louis attempted, voice loud in the quiet empty space of the car, “thank you for fucking me into oblivion.” Louis laughed, hunching over the steering wheel as his shoulders shook. He spent the next few minutes coming up with the shittiest things he could possibly say to Harry.

“Sorry for that bruise on your arse.”

“Sorry for trying to force you to mate with me. No means no.”

“Ring me for your next rut?”

“Or we could just have a go now,” he amended. He stopped there because suddenly he was contemplating actually going at it again.

It was all a joke, of course. When Louis saw Harry, there was only one way this could go. He would say “thank you” firstly because Harry needed to know that he’d been a true friend to Louis and Louis was grateful for that. Then he’d finish by saying, “I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship.” Just like that. Hopefully, Harry would understand. Louis knew that if he wanted to just be friends, Harry would respect that.

This would be a piece of cake.

* * *

 

Louis pulled up at the studio two hours later. Zayn was the first to see him when he shuffled in, slinging an arm around his waist.

“Feeling better?” Zayn asked.

Louis nodded. He wasn’t in heat, sure. But his stomach was doing awful somersaults and he felt like depositing his breakfast all over the hardwood floor.

“Is everyone else here?” Louis asked as absently as possible. He didn’t miss the look Zayn shot him from the corner of his eye, a smirk playing on his lips.

The sad thing was that Louis had been in a drama club during high school. He’d taken acting classes. He’d even been an extra one year when he was fifteen in a television movie. Granted, all he’d done was walk from one side of the frame to the other. But the point was that Louis had acting experience and Louis should have been good at pretending that he wasn’t in search of Harry and Louis was failing at pretending.

He sighed in exasperation.

“Where’s Harry?” he said.

Zayn smiled widely, removing his arm from Louis’ waist as they approached the stairs. “He was upstairs in the break room last time I checked, talking to his sister. Should be done now.”

“Thanks. See you in a bit?”

“’Course,” Zayn said, sauntering away and leaving Louis to climb the stairs on his own. Louis walked slowly.

_I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship._

 He recited it over and over in his head, as he reached the top of the stairs and headed to the break room.

_I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship._

_I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship._

_I really want to suck your dick._

“Wait,” Louis halted, “Fuck.”

Just then a door opened up ahead and Harry stepped into the hallway, pocketing his mobile before he looked up and saw Louis.

Louis couldn’t remember what he’d been chanting in his head. Harry’s beautiful lips curled into a smile and Louis thought about how he’d kissed and sucked those lips into his own mouth. Harry reached over to shut the door behind him, his fingers curling around the doorknob, and Louis remembered how they’d curled inside of him.

There was heat simmering low in his belly with each step Harry took, bringing him closer. His jeans were just as tight as ever and Louis never could have known how powerful his thighs were until they were an integral part in fucking him into a couch. 

“Lou,” Harry said when they were arms-length apart, “all right?”

No, he was most certainly not all right. He’d known all morning what needed to be said and was completely prepared to say it. But now those words didn’t make sense to him. Nothing made sense to him. He was so concerned with not wanting to ruin their friendship. But he was suddenly very afraid that it already had been ruined. Because he couldn’t look at Harry without remembering everything they’d done and without craving it.

“Yeah. I’m good,” Louis said forcing a smile.

Harry frowned. “You’re not.” Louis hated when Harry pointed out what a shit liar he was. Thing was Louis could normally lie pretty well to other people. Just not to Harry.

“I am,” Louis shot back. Harry remained silent, not wanting to argue but clearly not believing him. Louis looked down at his feet.

“So,” Harry said, “you’re feeling much better then?”

“I wasn’t sick, Harry,” Louis said too defensively. He continued frowning at his shoes. He was so on edge and he hated it. But he couldn’t get himself to relax. This wasn’t right. He couldn’t even remember a time when he wasn’t relaxed around Harry.

“Sorry,” Harry said softly. Louis looked up at him then.

“Why are you always apologizing?”

Harry’s eyebrows creased deeply. Louis could tell he was resisting the urge to apologize again. “I don’t know. Seems like the proper thing to do if you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset,” Louis said.

“Okay,” Harry said, scratching the side of his neck just to do something with his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Louis said.

“For?”

A lot, actually. Louis settled on saying, “For being a little shit.”

Harry’s answering smile was lopsided the way Louis adored. “You’re not so bad. A tiny shit more like.”

“Should that make me feel better?” Louis asked, arching one eyebrow.

Harry shrugged, grinning now. “Sometimes I fancy a tiny shit.”

Louis snorted. “So charming,” he cooed, poking Harry in the ribs with his knuckle. Harry curled away from him to avoid being tickled and Louis instinctively took a step forward in pursuit of him. This came naturally to them. Things like touching and the tickling had just one day worked themselves into the fabric of their friendship. Now it seemed that Louis always had to have his hands on Harry. He always found reasons to touch him.

All of a sudden, Louis got to thinking about how weird that was. And then he wondered if his “friendship” with Harry had ever truly worked the way he thought. There were times when they cuddled and Louis got hard just from the close proximity and the scent rolling off of Harry. Times when Harry left the hotel room and Louis took a casual sniff of his bed. Or when he got jealous if Harry showed anyone more attention than he showed Louis, which was rare.

Louis stopped trying to tickle him. Took a step back and ran a hand down his beanie. Harry wasn’t stupid. He saw Louis’ retreat for what it was, and the atmosphere once again grew awkward.

Louis cleared his throat. “So, I just wanted to say sorry,” he said on a heavy exhale, “and thank you for…everything?” _I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship._ Louis bit into his lip, ignoring the voice in his head.

“Of course, Lou,” Harry said, “Any time.”

Louis looked at him questioningly.

Harry was smiling, not realizing what his words implied. Then it hit him. “I didn’t mean…” Harry trailed off, face crumpled in deep thought, “Don’t really know what I meant, to be honest.” Louis hated how tense Harry looked and he couldn’t help but blame himself.

“Just being generous as always,” Louis smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “Thanks, Haz. But I’ll be more careful in the future, I promise.”

“That’s a disappointment,” Harry said and then laughed, “just joking.”

Louis shook his head at him, “You’re not. It’s okay to admit I’m fucking amazing.”

“Alright, then,” Harry said as he moved past him, “You’re fucking amazing.”

Okay, so Louis had seen that coming. He’d prompted it himself. Didn’t stop his insides from going soupy. This was getting ridiculous.

“Are you leaving me?” Louis said in exaggerated horror.

Harry glanced back at him, “It’s time for rehearsal and we’re going to be late.”

“Well, wait for me,” Louis said as he scurried to catch up with him. But instead of walking beside him like a normal person, he rushed him, bumping his shoulder and sending Harry into the wall. “Or _you_ can be late and _I’ll_ be early,” he laughed as he began to dash for the stairs. Harry collected himself quickly and was after him. Soon both of them were racing down the stairs towards the rehearsal room. Paul was at the landing, telling them to stop before someone got hurt. They never listened. Louis made it to the rehearsal room first. Sometimes he thought Harry slowed down to let him win. He was equally charmed and pissed off by that notion.

They were both out of breath when they met up with the rest of the boys and Harry’s hair was more disheveled than usual from being wind-beaten. Niall, Zayn and Liam exchanged looks with each other, Niall smirking as he tuned his guitar.

“What?” Louis said a little annoyed.

Zayn shrugged, looking away.

“Have a good time?” Liam said, patting Harry on his shoulder.

“Oh, fuck off,” Louis said, smacking Liam’s hand on Harry’s shoulder. Harry didn’t seem to mind. It took a lot to visibly ruffle his feathers. But Louis’ annoyance flared enough for them both.

It wasn’t necessarily weird for the boys to make jokes about Harry and Louis having a go. People made jokes like that all the time. But now that it had actually happened, now that Louis couldn’t stop thinking about it, he didn’t find it very funny at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spring semester has officially begun! Which means, I might update a little slower. But I’m working hard to get this story completed. Thanks so much for your support!


	4. Chapter 4

_enjoying the party?_

Harry looked down at the message displayed across his iPhone. He lowered the glass of wine in his other hand, a slow smile forming on his lips. 

_Not bad. Gem told me today that blue makes my bum look massive. im wounded._

_she’s just taking the piss, haz. your bum is nonexistent._

_u always know how to cheer me up lou._

_I’ve made it my life’s work. x_

Harry retreated to the kitchen so he could laugh openly without feeling scrutinized. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he typed deftly:

_you left a bruise on my nonexistent bum._

A minute later, Louis responded:

you _know I love it when you fight dirty._

“What on earth are you smiling about?”

Harry’s eyes darted up from his mobile. His sister was standing at the opposite side of the kitchen. He hadn’t even noticed her come in. She stared at him, arms crossed over her chest, one eyebrow quirked.

“Told Louis about my massive bum,” Harry said, pocketing his mobile. He told her, “you two have very differing opinions.”

Gemma smirked, “Louis has an opinion on your bum, eh?”

“So do you apparently,” Harry replied, fumbling with the buttons of his dinner jacket.

Gemma made her way around him to reach into the cupboard, “I’m your sister. I washed your bum when you were a babe.”

Harry gave her a look. “I’m quite certain you did not.”

“Well, no, not really. I'm horrified just by the thought of it. But still, it's a different matter with Louis,” she said, as she came away from the cupboard holding three wine glasses between her fingers.

“I don’t think so. People always comment on other people’s bums,” Harry said.

Gemma looked at him, “That’s true. But,” she said, pointing a finger at him, “You and Louis are a bit more familiar with each other’s bums than most people.” She wiggled her eyebrows, knowingly.

Harry gawked at her, “How—”

“Louis told his mum, she told our mum, and mum told me,” Gemma explained, smiling.

Harry sighed. “Here I was, feeling sorry for keeping secrets. When the whole family already knew,” Harry said, putting his face in his palms.

“Not the whole family. Not everyone in the garden,” she said, gesturing towards the doors that led outside, where yet another evening soirée was taking place. Harry’s mum loved to throw a party whenever she could. Harry didn’t mind too much since these gatherings were the only things keeping him from feeling like a stranger around his own blood. The boys spent so much time away that sometimes coming back home and reuniting with uncles, aunts and cousins felt like meeting a new set of people. Harry hated to feel like that. So, if he had to don a dinner jacket and fix his own hair every now and then, so be it.

Harry narrowed his eyes at his sister. “Why didn’t you ask me about it if you knew?”

“I figured that you keeping quiet wasn’t a good sign,” Gemma shrugged, “if you’d found a mate, you would’ve been streaking up and down the road, yelling his name at the top of your lungs, and beating on your chest like an ape.”

“I don’t think…” Harry started but Gemma held up one manicured hand to stop him.

“The fact that I’m not concerned about your mental stability means that nothing’s changed,” she said.

Harry stared at her for a moment and then down at his boots. “You’re right. Nothing happened.”

Gemma ducked her head to look him in the eye. “Not what you wanted, then?”

“I didn’t want _anything_. Before, things were fine the way they were,” Harry said.

“But they aren’t now,” Gemma finished for him.

Harry didn’t respond. He just shook his head, solemnly.

Gemma nodded in understanding.. “Well, you’ll just have to do something about it.”

“You make it sound so easy. What if I scare him off?”

“Harry, that doesn’t even sound possible. Have you gone daft?” Gemma said, shaking her head.

“Louis gets scared like anyone else. He’s just better at hiding it,” Harry said, “and I think the idea of mating scares him more than anything.”

“Maybe so,” Gemma said. Her lips turned up in a smirk identical to Harry’s. “But not with you. Trust me, Harry. You’re not so scary.”

Harry smiled, grateful for the compliment but clearly still doubtful. In most cases, Gemma had Harry figured out. But in this particular matter, Harry wasn’t convinced. How could Gemma understand his love life when he couldn’t? How could she come up with solutions so quickly to matters he’d spent the last few days unraveling over?

“Children,” Anne called, poking her head into the kitchen. Harry was pretty sure she only referred to them that way due to wishful thinking. Sometimes he caught her watching him with a sad look in her eye, tinged with wonder like she was still in shock about waking up one day and finding a man where her little boy had been. So, he tried to hug her and kiss her cheek as many times as he could and doted on her whenever he was home, all in an attempt to show her that no matter how old he grew, there would always be a part of him that belonged to her. “Please, come back to the garden. People are starting to think you ran off.”

“Yes, mum,” Gemma said, heading back outside. Harry began to follow but before he could pass his mum, she placed a hand on his chest.

“All right?” she asked, smiling.

“Course,” he replied. Anne’s eyes narrowed slightly. She knew better. She could probably see the thoughts buzzing around in Harry’s curly head.

“You don’t actually have to stay,” she said, “if there’s somewhere else you need to be.”

“No, I want to be here. Promise,” he said. He leaned over, kissed her on her cheek.

She patted his chest. “Such a good boy,” she said as she led him back to the garden.

Harry really did want to be here with his family. But he also couldn’t stop thinking about Louis, especially not after talking to Gemma. Up until then, Louis had existed in the corners of Harry’s mind like a slow burn, a pain that was tolerable but never, ever forgotten. Talking to Gemma had brought the pain back to the surface and Harry needed to do something about it.

* * *

 

The interviewer, Jessica Something, really meant no harm. Louis knew that. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to rip the blonde hair right out of her head and stuff it down Harry’s throat.

Louis knew he was being ridiculous. Jessica had been flirting with everyone, even him at one point. It was a necessary part of her play: be as attractive as possible, make a suggestive joke when possible, pat a knee here and an arm there. Louis understood. But not Harry’s knee, not his arm or any other part of his body. As far as Harry was concerned, Jessica was best off backing the fuck up.

Jessica was currently laughing at a joke Harry had made that wasn’t even funny and Louis knew that he should be laughing too, solely for appearance. When he glanced off camera, he could see Holly, one of the PR girls, gesturing for him to smile. It was a little humorous the way she drew a smile across her face with her fingers, her own mouth stretched in a cartoonish grin. Louis wanted to roll his eyes but he smiled obediently instead. Zayn glanced at him from where he sat beside him, his arm coming around Louis’ shoulders. Zayn could always sense when Louis was annoyed, although there wasn’t much he could do when they were on camera. Even this simple gesture would be fodder for someone’s fanfiction.

Jessica was suddenly directing a question his way. He forced himself to pay attention.

“Louis, you’re known as the prankster of the group. Is there anyone you particularly like to tease?”

The other boys began to respond on their own. Liam raised his hand jokingly. Louis grinned at him.

“Is it Liam?” Jessica laughed along with them.

“No, no,” Louis said, “I think I tease everyone equally. No one is free from my wrath.” Louis might have said that last bit with a note of menace. But everyone was laughing and the only one who seemed to have noticed was Harry. He looked over at Louis, his eyebrows creasing faintly. Louis let his eyes flicker to Harry’s for only a second before flickering away. He didn’t look at Harry again for the remainder of the interview. He plastered a smile on his face and tried very hard to ignore the way Jessica stared at Harry or patted his knee repeatedly. Then it was over and they were heading to lunch.

Maybe it was Harry’s rut, now only two days away, which put Louis on edge. Each day that it grew closer made Harry’s scent thicken in the air until Louis was certain he was choking on it. Louis had always been aware of it, even before anything had happened between them. But all those times before, at least in Louis’ mind, Harry had been off limits, and that thought kept Louis from being too bothered by Harry's Alpha scent.

But _now…_

Louis was in agony. Especially because Harry was leaving after rehearsal that afternoon and Louis wouldn’t see him again until his rut was over. Louis didn’t know how Harry normally spent his ruts. He certainly didn’t sleep around the way most people thought he did. But being an alpha still had its demands and perhaps there would be a girl or boy curled up beside him for the next few days. Just the thought made Louis murderous.

Back at the studio, the boys were gathered around a generous serving of assorted sushi. Niall was humming a tune for Zayn and Liam, trying to get them to recognize the song that had been stuck on his mind. Harry had shoved his chopsticks behind his top lip so that they looked like long canines and was making a face at Lux, seated in her highchair between him and Lou.

Just then, Paul told them that they only had ten minutes to finish up. So, Harry stopped fooling around and removed the chopsticks from his mouth. Louis watched Harry put his chopsticks down on the table because he wasn’t very good at using them. Then, Harry took the two rolls left on his plate, stacked them on top of each other and had no problem sticking both in his open mouth, his tongue poking out to receive them. Louis was pretty sure that was illegal and Harry deserved to have charges brought against him. Louis stared at him, his eyes going dark, heat pooling in his stomach. In horror, he felt just the tiniest bit of moisture beginning to seep from him and his dick was stiffening under the constricting material of his jeans. Louis shut his eyes. This was not happening. He was not getting aroused from the sight of Harry eating sushi.

Harry looked up from his plate suddenly as he chewed slowly, his eyes immediately meeting Louis’. And Louis was horrified because Harry just _knew_.

Louis was the first to head over to the rehearsal room, in an attempt to put distance between himself and Harry and the curious, intent focus of his gaze. Later when their rehearsal was over, Louis was packing up his duffle as quickly as he could. He wanted to get in his car and hurry home before the chance to do something stupid presented itself. He had just slung his bag over his shoulder and was grabbing his car keys when a knock sounded at the door of his dressing room. He didn’t even have to open the door because Harry’s fucking scent was already seeping through the walls.

“Lou,” Harry called, “you still there?”

Louis rubbed at his face. He was being ridiculous. He knew that. It was just Harry, his best friend and his band mate, and there was no reason why he should be avoiding him. But Louis still wished there was a window he could climb out of.

He opened the door. “Hey,” he said, smiling.

“Hi,” Harry replied, “are you leaving?”

Louis nodded, stepping out and pulling the door shut behind him. “Yeah, I promised my mum I would take my sisters out for Nando’s.” That was a lie. Louis hated that he’d even said it. But he needed a reason why going home was obligatory. The alternative was ending up at Harry’s flat with his face buried in Harry’s mattress. Which Louis wanted but shouldn’t want because he was transcending horniness and he wasn’t thinking anywhere near straight.

Harry made a face. “I thought you were staying in London tonight. For Amanda's birthday dinner?”

 _Shit_. “I completely forgot about that,” Louis said.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m sure she’ll forgive you if you beg,” Harry said smiling. Louis was so far gone that the word “beg” had him conjuring up images of himself on his knees, pleading and willing before Harry.

Louis squeezed his eyes shut.

“What’s wrong?” Harry said, taking a step closer.

Louis took one back. “Nothing, Haz. Everything’s good.”

“It’s not, Lou. Look at me,” Harry said, crowding him.

Louis glared at him. “Jesus, Harry, back off.”

Harry frowned. “Why are you so angry?”

Louis glanced around just to make sure they were alone, which wasn’t good, but he also didn’t want someone to overhear. “I’m not angry. I just can’t breathe,” Louis hissed.

“Do you need to sit down?” Harry asked in concern, his hand instinctively extended to help him.

“Please, don’t touch me.”

Harry pulled away, his face crinkling like a wounded puppy. “It’s me, isn’t it?”

“What?” Louis said.

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’re being weird because of me. I can smell you,” Harry said.

“You’re the one stinking up the entire building, mate,” Louis shot back, his face flushing.

“If only my scent was as offensive to you as you make it seem,” Harry replied with a smirk.

“Fuck off.” Louis tugged the strap of his bag higher onto his shoulder and was beginning to turn away. He could handle Harry being ridiculously sexy (well, somewhat). But Harry being smug about being ridiculously sexy only made him horny and pissed off. Not an enjoyable combination by any means.

Harry grabbed his arm before he could take a step. Louis shivered, the heat of Harry’s skin offsetting his own temperature. “I’m sorry,” Harry said. “I shouldn’t tease you about this.”

Louis thought about it for a minute. He felt like lashing out but not because he was angry. Maybe he should have been angry. He had every right to be if Harry was getting a kick out of the affect he had on him. Instead, all Louis felt like doing was pulling Harry into a nearby supply closet. Finally he said, “It’s not your fault. I’m the biggest tease. Remember? Jessica whatsit said so herself.”

“And no one is free from your wrath,” Harry supplied. “I remember clearly.”

“I was joking,” Louis clarified.

Harry shrugged. “Or you were jealous?”

“Of _what_?” Louis looked at him like he was ridiculous.

“Dunno. You tell me,” Harry was moving his thumb back and forth against Louis’ forearm in a subtly tender gesture that Louis pretended not to notice. Perhaps it was meant to comfort him but it only made his knees weak. Again he was beginning to feel the warmth pooling in his tummy and a hint of moisture collecting between his thighs.

“I've got no reason to be jealous,” Louis said, “we’re friends, Harry.  _Just_ friends.” It was the first time he’d said that since the Incident. Louis hated everything about those words: the way they sounded coming from his mouth and how incredibly false they were.

“Then why are you so wet?”

Louis inhaled sharply. Harry’s voice had descended a million octaves and the deep rumble of it echoed all the way through Louis’ body, coaxing slick past his rim and down his thighs. “Don’t act like it’s not your fault.”

“’M not. I take full responsibility,” Harry murmured. With his hand still enclosed around Louis’ arm, Harry pulled him in closer. He kept his other hand braced against the wall, effectively trapping Louis against him.

Louis didn’t know what was happening. But he was letting it happen anyway. Harry buried his nose in the side of Louis’ neck, inhaling deeply. “Jesus, Lou, are you trying to jumpstart my rut?” he whispered.

Louis was only trying to stay quiet. He knew that anything he said would come out sounding like a moan or he’d end up begging Harry to fuck him. Neither of those options was acceptable. So he kept quiet and only whimpered when Harry’s lips brushed his neck.

There was no excuse for this. Louis wasn’t in his heat. Harry wasn’t in his rut. They were completely sober and in somewhat of a right mind. Louis could always keep his cool around Harry. Always. But now he didn’t feel cool at all. He was burning from the inside out and the only thing that could extinguish the flame was Harry.

“I still owe you for what you did,” Louis finally said, trying to laugh but coughed instead.

Harry picked his head up from Louis’ neck so that he could look him in the eye. “What?”

“You helped me out," Louis explained, "Why don’t we go back to yours and I’ll return the favor, yeah?” Louis kept his head bowed, unable to look at Harry as the words tumbled from his lips.

“Are you serious?” Harry asked after a short beat of silence.

It was a legitimate inquiry. Offering to spend the next few days with Harry was actually equivalent to Louis asking Harry to mate him. During Harry’s rut, no amount of self-control could stop the alpha from knotting the omega. It was impossible. They both knew it didn't work that way and their understanding made Louis’ attempt at amiability fall short. In other words, this wasn’t an offer for a casual fuck as a favor to a friend. This was an offer to bond for life.

The part that scared Louis’ the most was that yes, he was serious.

But Harry seemed to misinterpret Louis’ silence. Louis could feel him tense up where their bodies were still pressed together. Harry took a step back and Louis’ felt an uncomfortable chill rush over his skin at the loss of Harry’s warmth. He wrapped his arms around himself, cold and suddenly embarrassed.

It would be so easy to correct the misunderstanding growing between them. Louis only had to speak up. But what if Harry didn’t want that? What if offering himself to Harry was the first step in obliterating their friendship? The friendship that, in itself, had been a shot in the dark. Most days, Louis still couldn’t believe that he and Harry were friends or that he’d found someone who somehow contradicted and complimented him in a way no one else could. Harry was his soul mate in what used to be a platonic way.

But now Louis wanted more and he couldn’t help thinking that his greed was bound to fuck things up. Once again, he put blame on his nature as an omega, of which his neediness and dependency were consequences.

Harry looked hurt and Louis knew it was all because he was being a whiny, fickle omega. Harry had never wanted Louis in that way. This had all happened because Louis’ heat had taken a giant shit on the schedule, the slick that, even now Louis couldn’t stop from flowing out of him, driving Harry into frenzy. This was all happening because Louis the omega, with his omega scent and omega slick and overall omega-ness had provoked the alpha in Harry. Not because Harry had any special feelings for Louis. Harry only wanted Louis because he was a readily available omega.

But it was different for Louis. Before Harry, the thought of doing anything remotely sexual with an alpha made Louis cringe. He would consider it and soon find himself remembering that boy on the field, thrusting against his leg. He’d remember the boys in the locker room after he’d been found out, squeezing his bum as they walked by and promising the omega “a good fuck from a good alpha.” Then there was Stan who couldn’t bear to hang out in Louis’ room anymore or sit too close by because he was clearly one of those alphas with an overly sensitive nose. Liam, Niall, and Harry were the first alphas Louis ever met who respected him and treated him like one of their own. But unlike with Liam and Niall, there was an attraction Louis felt for Harry that he could never shake.

Harry had options. He would and could meet any other omega any day. But Harry was it for Louis. It was clear now. Louis was certain that there would never be another alpha that made him feel this way.

“Sorry,” Louis said. Sorry for so many things. For ruining their friendship with his feelings. For being a tease. For being an omega.

Harry took another step back, sliding his hands into his pockets where he probably thought they were better off. “No need to be sorry.”

“I don’t know what just happened. That was weird,” Louis said, no longer aroused. Only cold and numb.

Harry pressed his lips together, his forehead creasing. After a moment, he said, “See you next week then?”

“Yeah,” Louis nodded, tugging at the strap of his bag. “Till then.” He turned away from Harry as Harry turned away from Louis, both heading in opposite directions. It wasn’t what Louis wanted. Not even close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about any spelling or grammatical errors. I will fix them soon enough. Thanks for reading and commenting and being absolutely perfect. Much love! xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Rape mention in this chapter.

“I have to say how truly sorry I am, Mr. Tomlinson. I assure you this won’t happen again.”

From his seat on top of the examination bench, Louis surveyed the doctor from his patent leather shoes to his white lab coat to his dark eyes. He thought of all the snide comments he could have shot back at him. But the doctor did look apologetic and even a little scared, as if the multi-millionaire boybander would end his career in the next second. Louis could summon a large army of teenage girls at a moment’s notice, of that he was absolutely confident. But putting a doctor out of practice was extreme, wasn’t it?

Honestly, Louis just wanted to get out of there. The doctor possessed a predatory look in his gaze that made him undoubtedly Alpha and there was a good reason alpha doctors almost never took on omega patients. Not for lack of professionalism, but because the biological attraction proved too hard to ignore. While Louis felt absolutely no attraction towards the doctor, he didn’t really have to. The doctor was clearly attracted enough for the both of them.

“Accidents happen,” Louis said with a shrug. Even when those accidents had him spreading his legs for his best friend.

The doctor relaxed visibly and smiled. Was it Louis’ imagination or did his canines look more pronounced?

“Where’s Dr. Murray?” Louis asked.

The doctor’s smile faltered. “She’s visiting her own doctor actually. She’s ten weeks pregnant.”

Louis’ eyes widened. “Wow. I’ll have to congratulate her at my next visit.”

“I’m sure you can’t wait to have children of your own. Omega child-bearing can be a life-changing experience,” the doctor was saying. His smile had returned, toothy like a wild cat’s.

Louis shifted uncomfortably on the bench. “Haven’t given that much thought.” He’d been trying since he’d hit puberty to do the exact opposite. The idea of being pregnant had always scared him just as much as the idea of mating.

But that was before Harry.

Louis realized with a wave of nausea that he wasn’t afraid of mating with Harry. To his dismay, if it was Harry’s child, being pregnant wasn’t scary either. Not scary, but welcome.

Too bad that probably wouldn’t happen. Louis folded his hands in his lap and stared down at them.

“With all respect, you may be a pop star but these things do catch up to you. Best to ensure that you have a mate now before all the fame dies down,” the doctor said.

Louis rolled his eyes. “So, you have a mate then?” Louis asked. He already knew the answer. The doctor wouldn’t be drooling over him if he did.

“Well,” the doctor started.

“Not so easy, is it?” Louis cut him off. He hopped down from the bench and grabbed his burgundy hoodie. “Good day to you,” he said as he left.

It might have been a little rude. Okay, more than a little. But he didn’t actually care. He could take alphas leering at him. Growing up had guaranteed as much. What he couldn’t handle was being made to feel like shit for not having a mate. He was trying his best and, forgive him, but it wasn’t easy when the one person he wanted, he couldn’t have.

When he got into his car, he rested his head against the steering wheel and took a deep shuddery breath. He placed a hand over his chest, attempting to massage his heart as it clenched painfully. He wanted to cry suddenly. He hadn’t cried in a long time. Not since his last heat when he was begging for Harry’s dick and Louis had decided not to count that.

His mobile buzzed with a message where he’d tossed it in the passenger seat. He reached over and grabbed it, expecting it to be his mum asking what he wanted for dinner. Instead it was Harry.

_I feel really bad about what happened yesterday._

Louis groaned. He’d finally stopped thinking about how differently things could have gone last night. He texted back.

_Why? You did nothing wrong._

He could picture Harry, wherever he was, thinking of a response. He only hoped it didn’t make the pain in his chest worse.

_I just don’t want to jeopardize our friendship._

Great. Now he'd worried Harry about their friendship. When had things gotten so messed up? Louis thumped his forehead on the steering wheel.

_You haven’t. Everything’s fine._

Harry replied in seconds.

_Have lunch with me tomorrow?_

Louis sighed. He wanted to say yes more than anything. But there was the matter of his feelings. He had to remember how to be an omega around Harry. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand how this had ever worked out. All those times they’d snuggled strictly as friends, how had they _stayed_ friends? His eyes stung as he typed out his response.

_And your rut?_

_I feel fine._

_I don’t think I can._

_You’re avoiding me._

Louis rolled his eyes and sent: _I’m not. I have stuff to do._

Harry was insistent. _I think I’ve ruined things and now you’re avoiding me._

_the fuck are you talking about? that’s stupid. =P_

_How about ice cream?_

_I can’t._

_Come on, Lou._

He couldn’t take the begging, even through text messages.

_We’ll go for ice cream next weekend._

_Promise?_

_Promise. Swear. Cross my heart. All that shit._

_I’ll hold you to it. x_

Louis smiled. Then frowned. He tossed his mobile back into the passenger seat and rested his head against the steering wheel.

Being an omega had become an even greater burden as of late since his mum reminded him daily that he was “nearing the danger zone.” The rather morbid truth was that not very many unmated omegas made it past forty. Not because the heats finally drove them into insanity, although Louis often thought that was bound to happen. But because the longer an omega went without a mate, the stronger his scent became, as though his body was desperately throwing out distress calls to any willing alpha. At thirty his scent was potent. At forty it was almost lethal and comparable to the scent he gave off during his heat. God forbid a deranged alpha should come along, drunk in his rut and ready for a brutal fuck, an unmated thirty-year-old omega with a scent like vaporized gold was a walking, talking amusement park. It just so happened that things never ended well for the omega. Often times, his life ended too.

So, it only made sense that Johannah was more than a little pushy. Almost all of the omegas Louis had met in the past were already mated. Just last week, his friend James had announced that he’d mated a charming American boy, and his cousin Keith, the family’s cherished alpha, had found himself a sixteen-year-old omega who spoke two languages and looked like a not-so-fit version of Zac Efron. All around him omegas and alphas were shacking up and syncing up and then….

There was Louis.

Louis who only wanted Harry.

Louis who was pretty sure that even if Harry was a beta or an omega, he’d still want him just as much as he did now.

He let his mind fill with thoughts of an ideal world—a world where he could have him and he knew with certainty that such a world existed dimensions away.

His tears came easily to him then. They weren’t the loud hysterical sobs of a broken hearted child. He _was_ broken hearted, yes. But he wasn’t a child and he told himself he could take it. He cried softly, using his shirt to wipe up snot and tears.

When he was finished, he peered at his face in the visor, making a disgusted sound at the sight of his puffy eyes. He stayed in the parking lot until the sky got dark. Then he headed home. His mum never texted about dinner. He hoped she was making his favorite. He needed all the cheering up he could get.

* * *

 

“Have you read the recent Sugarscape article?” Zayn was saying. Louis glanced over at him, not quite sure whom he was speaking to, since both Harry and Niall were in the room as well. Zayn looked up from his mobile, setting his gaze on Louis. Louis paused the game of FIFA with Niall, ignoring his loud whine.

“No, what does it say?” Louis asked.

Zayn glanced at Harry before he spoke. Louis pretended not to have noticed. “It’s about you and some bloke. The headline says, ‘One Direction’s Louis Tomlinson finds a mate.’ There’s a picture too.”

“What?” Harry looked up from his bowl of cereal.

Louis’ gaze slid over to Harry, whose own eyes had darkened twenty shades. Was it the remnants of his rut or had Harry always looked so perfect? It was unfair how his wild hair and eyes worked in his favor. Even the bead of milk on the corner of his open mouth made Louis want to suck his face off.

“You’ve mated and not said anything?” Zayn asked, eyebrows up.

“No,” Louis answered quickly, “my mum’s trying to set me up on dates again.”

“How’s that going?” Niall asked. “Did you like him any?”

Louis glanced at Harry again unable to stop himself before it happened. Why he cared about Harry’s opinion was beyond his knowledge. Harry was probably only concerned because, like all of the boys, he was protective of the one omega in their group. It had also been a long time since Louis dated anyone and naturally Harry would take interest in hearing more.

To be fair, there’d been nothing wrong with the alpha Louis’ mum’s coworker had introduced him to. Louis could almost imagine that if he wasn’t so hung up on his curly-headed best friend, he might have even been interested in him. But since that wasn’t the case, Louis couldn’t convince himself that he was the least bit appealing. He didn’t like his strawberry blonde hair or his hazel eyes. He didn’t care for his expensive leather watch. He didn’t like the way he chewed or _breathed_ for that matter.

Mostly, he didn’t like that he wasn’t Harry.

But Louis considered telling Niall and Zayn the opposite. He could tell them that he did fancy his date quite a bit and that they were meeting again soon. But it wasn’t true. He’d already deleted the boy’s number.

“Not really,” Louis said. As soon as the words were out, Harry looked back down at his bowl of cereal. Louis thought he might be imagining the tiny smirk on Harry’s pink lips. Yes, definitely his imagination.

“Nice lad but he’s a Liverpool fan. Not much hope there,” Louis explained, though even if he had played for Donny, Louis still wouldn’t have fancied him.

Harry, Zayn and Niall made a noise of disgust at the mention of Liverpool and Harry stood up to go rinse his bowl of cereal. Louis dropped the controller and grabbed the empty plate he’d left beside the table and hopped up so he had a reason to follow Harry.

“Hey,” Niall said, looking at Louis’ discarded controller.

“Be right back,” Louis said. He didn’t miss the look Zayn shot him as he scurried out of the room.

Harry was already at the sink by the time Louis caught up with him, his arms extended into the sink where he was washing his bowl and a few other dishes that had been left there. Louis strolled up next to him.

“You smell like him,” Harry said, not looking up and making a face.

Louis’ stomach turned but he snorted, “I do not.” He tried to catch a discreet whiff of his body but could sniff nothing except his detergent. There was no way he still smelled like his date.

Harry looked up, a smile on his face. “Only joking. I can take that,” Harry said, holding out a soapy hand for Louis’ plate.

“I’d like to wash my own dish, thank you,” Louis said cheekily, bumping Harry’s hip with his own. Harry moved out of his way easily, smiling and rolling his eyes.

“As the queen commands,” Harry said as he dried his hands.

Louis raised his middle finger in agreement, which got a quiet laugh bubbling up from Harry. Louis noticed after a minute that Harry was still leaning against the counter, his body angled towards Louis.

“A picture would serve you better, mate,” Louis muttered.

Harry shrugged. “Yes. But would you let me take a picture of you washing dishes?”

“Depends on if you have a fetish for people washing dishes,” Louis questioned.

“Not all people. Just you,” Harry teased. Or Louis thought he was teasing. He couldn’t be sure.

“Maybe I should wash them slower then?” Louis played along, moving the sponge languidly across the dish in his hands, and fluttering his eyelashes.

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Harry joked. His eyes settled on Louis’ hands covered in soapy water.

“It’s actually a lot harder than you think,” Louis said, “there’s marmite stuck all over this thing.”

“Should have let me do it for you,” Harry said smugly.

Louis scoffed. “I helped raise my sisters, Harry. I’m a pro at washing dishes.”

Harry shrugged one shoulder, grinning. “Good news for my fetish though, innit?”

Louis wrinkled his nose at him. He didn’t know if Harry was joking or not. Surely, a dishwashing fetish was a tad strange. But he found himself stroking the dish in his hands like it was an extension of Harry. The dish was spotless, he was sure, but he swirled the bubbles around as if he were lathering down Harry’s skin. And that was it, wasn’t it? Maybe Harry imagined Louis washing him down too. He could only hope. Louis’ eyes flickered to Harry’s right hand resting on the counter and suddenly he was imagining the opposite. He pictured Harry massaging soap over his back, pressing a kiss to his neck every now and then because he just couldn’t help himself. He saw Harry pouring water over his skin and eventually they were making love in the tub, soap and shampoo long forgotten.

The dish slipped from Louis’ hands and he snapped out of his reverie, tearing his gaze away from Harry’s hand. “Shit,” he said to himself. He rinsed the dish quickly and stored it away. He chanced a glance at Harry and saw confusion written in his expression.

“All right?” Harry wondered.

“Yup,” Louis responded quickly.

Uncomfortable silence settled between them. Louis wanted to turn around and get back to his game of FIFA with Niall.

“Are we still on for lunch this weekend?” Harry asked.

Louis berated himself internally, remembering that he was supposed to cancel their “date” long ago. Clearly, he couldn’t even handle washing dishes in front of Harry. How in the hell was he supposed to consume food?

“I thought we were going for ice cream,” Louis said. He wasn’t doing this right. This wasn’t how you canceled plans.

Harry nodded. “Right,” Harry said, “we could do both.”

“We could,” Louis said, shrugging his shoulders and feigning nonchalance.

Harry smiled, “My uncle’s girlfriend just opened a shop in Holmes Chapel.”

Louis didn’t like where this was going. “Yeah?”

Harry nodded. “She’s been trying to get me to stop by for a while now,” Harry said, “so I could just take you there.”

“You want me to drive to Holmes Chapel this weekend?” Louis asked, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t really have a strong argument to make, since he drove three hours almost every day to and from Doncaster.

“You could leave with me on Friday and spend the night,” Harry said. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d spent the night at Harry’s family home.

Louis drummed his fingers on the countertop. “Getting greedy, aren’t we?”

“Nothin’ new,” Harry said. “So it’s settled then?”

 _No_. Louis kept drumming his fingers. “It’s settled,” Louis said, smiling. He kept the smile on his face until Harry was gone and he’d returned to the couch. Zayn was sitting alone in the room by the window, scrolling through his mobile.

“Where’s Niall?” Louis asked.

“Ran to the loo,” Zayn replied.

Louis nodded, plopping down on the couch.

“So what’s going on with you and Haz?” Zayn asked without looking up.

Louis turned the controller over in his hands. “Nothing,” he said easily reciting the lie he’d told his mum countless times.

“Come on, Lou.” Zayn put his mobile down and sat forward, resting his forearms on his legs. “You’re so obvious.”

“About _what_?” Louis looked up at Zayn.

Zayn shook his head at him, his eyes sad. “You stare at him all the fucking time. And he stares at you. And sometimes you guys just stare at each other. Obviously there’s something going on but neither of you is saying anything. You’re like an explosion waiting to happen.”

“Nothing’s exploding, mate. Harry and I are good. Everything’s good,” Louis said.

“I’m sure you tell Harry that shit all the time and he pretends to believe you because he likes to avoid confrontation. But I don’t buy a word of it. You’re lying. I wish you’d stop,” Zayn said.

Louis made a face. “Don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” Louis mumbled weakly, staring down at the controller in his hands.

“I care about you, Lou. I want you to be happy. I think you can be if you let someone help you figure things out.”

Louis took a moment to process that and form an adequate response. He tried to smile reassuringly at Zayn but it turned into a grimace.

“Thank you,” Louis said, standing up. “I know you care and it’s appreciated, trust me. Things are a bit awkward between Harry and I because of what happened. But that’s it. We’ll get things sorted soon enough.”

Zayn didn’t believe a word of it. Louis knew because he was shaking his head slowly. Desperate to avoid any more of this, Louis dropped the controller and strolled out of the room. He tried to avoid Zayn for the remainder of the day, though he felt his eyes on him often.

But Louis didn’t want to talk about his feelings. What Zayn didn’t understand was that Louis had them all figured out. He knew exactly what— _who_ —he wanted. But he also had a deep-rooted hatred for himself as an omega that no amount of counseling from Zayn would eradicate. Being Harry’s omega was a glorious idea. Louis just didn’t think that was possible. He couldn’t believe that Harry would ever want to be bonded with him from now until forever. And even if he did, Louis had convinced himself that he was the world’s worst omega and Harry deserved better.

* * *

 

On Friday, Louis was actually feeling a bit excited, despite trying to calm himself down. He wanted to stay levelheaded about his “date” with Harry, starting with reminding himself that it wasn’t actually a “date.” But he couldn’t help it. The weather was uncharacteristically warm for September and would be all weekend. He’d packed one of his best outfits for tomorrow and had asked Lou for the millionth time for tips on how to style his hair. Most likely, he’d still end up wearing a beanie.

He was genuinely happy for the first time in the past month. As much as he tried to warn himself against it, the thought of spending the night and the next day with Harry in any way made his blue eyes brighter and his cheeks rosier.

He’d just parked his car in the garage for the night when his mobile rang in the pocket of his denim jacket.

“Yes, mum?” he answered, cutting the engine and grabbing his duffle.

“Hi, Lou. How are you?” she asked.

The tone of her voice made him instantly suspicious. He stepped out of the car and shut the door. “Good and you?”

“Good, good,” she said, hesitantly. “Listen,”

Louis leaned against his car and waited.

“I know you said you weren’t coming home tonight but I was wondering if you might reconsider?”

Louis sighed. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine. I spoke to Stan today. You remember Stan?” his mum questioned.

“Of course I remember Stan. We still hang out sometimes,” Louis lied.

“No, you don’t,” his mum replied, “but he’s in town from university this weekend and he wants to see you.”

Maybe if he weren’t busy, he would consider seeing Stan. But that wasn’t the case. “I have plans this weekend with Harry.”

“Louis,” Johannah began with a sigh. Louis braced himself. “Don’t you think this thing with you and Harry is a bit unproductive? Wouldn’t you like to find someone before you go on tour next month?”

His stomach turned. Frustration threatened to overwhelm him but he forced it back down. If he kept his cool, he could still have a good day. “I’m not in a hurry,” he said.

“You should be,” his mum shot back, “and in any case, Stan is a handsome, respectable, _single_ alpha. I think you should see him.”

“Well, I can’t,” Louis said his words strongly. She clearly didn’t understand.

“I already told him you would.”

Louis squeezed the strap of his duffle. He took a breath before hissing out, “Why on earth would you do that? You knew I was busy.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that wasting time with Harry isn’t getting you anywhere,” she said quietly, trying for gentle. But there was no way those words could be said gently. Of course being with Harry was a waste of time because it was never going to happen.

The frustration broke the surface and took hold of him. He was sure his face was cherry red. “Why, why, _why_?” he said, “why would you do that?”

“He was interested, clearly. He asked me if you were single,” Johannah tried to explain. He could tell she was getting flustered too. They hardly ever argued. Even about omega things as much as it frustrated Louis. By now he was used to her obsessiveness and often even grateful for it. She kept track of his heats and made meals that were good for hormonal balance. As horrible as he was at being an omega, Louis knew that without her, he’d be ten times worse.

But he could no longer tolerate her pushiness about mating. He was done going on ridiculous dates to please his mother only to watch them fail because he just _wasn’t_ _interested_. He was done and if that meant that he would be a forty-year-old, unmated omega, then so fucking be it.

“You had no right,” Louis said quietly, balling his fists and squeezing hard.

“Louis,” she said.

“I have to go now.”

“Love…”

“I have to go,” he said, “You should cancel with Stan. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

He didn’t wait for her to say goodbye. He couldn’t. He had to hang up or she’d hear him cry. He let himself slide to the tarmac dropping his duffle and pulled his knees up to his chest. He needed to get this out of his system before finding Harry. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to go anymore. Just the sight of him would probably start the tears back up. No, he would have to cancel. He had no choice now. Maybe then he’d head to Zayn’s and maybe he’d even tell him how shitty everything was turning out to be.

But then he felt someone settle down beside him. He hoped it was Zayn but knew it wasn’t. The past few weeks had guaranteed that he would never mistake that scent. He tensed up, keeping his head buried between his knees so he could wipe his face.

Harry didn’t say anything. Louis was partly grateful for that, although he kind of wished he would hug him. But Harry took his hand instead. Even though it was wet from Louis’ tears and snot, Harry pulled Louis’ right hand into his lap and held it there. The constant brush of his thumb across Louis’ skin calmed him, slowly but surely, until he had stopped crying. He raised his head up from his knees and rested it back against the car.

“Sorry,” Louis said, “I’m a mess.”

“You’re not a mess. Don’t apologize,” Harry said, still caressing his hand.

Louis didn’t have a response. He focused on the feel of Harry’s fingers.

“No one’s dead, right?” Harry asked.

Louis shook his head, smiling a little. “No one’s dead.”

“Would you talk to me about it over ice cream?” Harry said hopefully.

Louis thought about it. “I should probably just be alone…”

“That’s exactly what you shouldn’t do,” Harry replied. “I don’t want to leave you alone. Let’s go have that ice cream, yeah?”

Louis frowned at him. “So persistent.”

Harry smiled. Quickly, he stood up without releasing Louis’ right hand and reached down for his left. “Come on,” he urged, pulling Louis to his feet.

“I’m being forced to eat ice cream?” Louis said, more to the universe than to Harry.

Harry smiled. “Think of it as medicine. A dose of ice cream and Harry Styles will patch you right up.” Louis didn’t bother protesting any further. A dose of Harry Styles and anything sounded right perfect.

Harry drove them about 45 minutes outside of London, away from the overpopulated city streets. It gave Louis a chance to rest his eyes. When he woke up from his short nap, Harry had pulled over and was staring at his iPhone.

“What are you doing?” Louis asked groggily.

Harry’s smile was sheepish. “I might have gotten us lost. Made a wrong turn somewhere.”

Louis sat up in his seat. “Do you even know where we’re going?”

“Not entirely. I just put in ‘ice cream’ and chose one far enough away,” Harry said.

Louis shook his head but smiled fondly. “Here,” he said, taking Harry’s iPhone, “I’ll be your compass. You focus on steering the ship, yeah?”

Harry smiled at him before easing the car back onto the road.

With Louis’ help, Harry got them to the ice cream shop in ten minutes. It was mostly deserted except for an elderly couple and their toddler grandchildren. Thankfully the clerk was in his thirties and didn’t appear to recognize Louis or Harry. They ordered two bowls of ice cream, cookie dough for Louis and strawberry for Harry so that they could share. Harry paid despite Louis’ protests. In the end, Harry convinced him that Louis was paying him back enough “just by being there.” Typical Harry and his sweet talk. Louis tried not to be too enraptured by it.

Harry didn’t prod too much but Louis knew he was worried. He kept asking him if he was all right until finally Louis decided to explain, though he edited here and there. Harry listened mostly, throwing in a nod or an “I understand” every now and then. Eventually he began asking questions.

“Is the problem that you don’t like Stan? Or do you just not want to be with anyone?” Harry asked carefully.

Louis hated this conversation already. He wanted to talk about football or even ice cream. Anything but relationships. “No, I’d like to be with someone eventually. It’s not even that I don’t like him. It’s just that so far dating hasn’t been all that successful and it’s becoming an annoyance. My mum isn’t making it any easier.”

Harry nodded, “My mum pressures me too. It’s only because they love us though.”

“Yeah, I get that. Sometimes though I think my mum just likes the idea of me finding someone, regardless of who it is.”

“Why do you think that?”

“’Cause she’s oddly fascinated by omegas and things like male pregnancy. She told me once that she’d always wanted to have an omega son. I don’t know why. Whatever the reason, I’m sure she wasn’t expecting me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like she read books on how to conceive certain sexes, particularly omegas. It’s freaking weird.”

Harry laughed. “No, I meant about her not expecting you? You’re an omega, just like she wanted.”

Louis nodded. “Yes but I’m an awful omega,” he said it jokingly despite how true he thought it was.

“What?” Harry looked at him like he was daft.

“Come on, Haz. Look at me,” Louis said, growing serious. A voice inside warned him to steer the conversation elsewhere lest he completely expose his self-hatred to Harry.

Harry smiled at him sincerely. “I am.”

Louis huffed in exasperation. “Really, anyone can see I wasn’t cut out for this.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re the best omega I’ve ever met,” Harry said seriously.

Louis rolled his eyes to counteract the flutter in his chest. “I’m probably the only omega you’ve ever met.”

“That’s not true. I’ve met plenty,” Harry argued.

“Yeah?” Louis snorted. Harry nodded.

Louis didn’t really like the idea of Harry knowing “plenty” of other omegas. “Did you date any of them? Are you?”

Harry released a breathy laugh. “No.” Louis waited for elaboration. “My mum tried to set something up with me and this one boy a long time ago. But it didn’t work out. I was too young and the idea terrified me honestly. Then there was another lad I met when I was fifteen who saw me and wanted to mate straight away.”

“I’ve underestimated you,” Louis joked.

Harry looked smug. “I tell you so all the time.”

Louis smiled around the spoon in his mouth before licking it clean. “So then what happened with him, the one you met when you were fifteen?”

Harry said, “I wasn’t ready then either I suppose.”

“And,” Louis mumbled, “are you ready now?”

“Yes,” Harry said confidently.

Louis’ stomach did a lazy eight. He hadn’t expected that answer. He didn’t know whether he would ever be truly ready. Yet Harry, two years his junior, already knew that he was.

“Are you still in touch with him now?”

Harry shrugged. “Somewhat. He’s a family friend. I see him at holiday parties every now and then.”

“Well,” Louis said, “why don’t you mate with him now then?”

Harry froze, his smile melting into a frown. He dipped his spoon back into his ice cream but didn’t eat any, swirling it around and turning it into strawberry soup. Louis worried he’d said something wrong and was beginning to think of a way to retract it. But, finally, Harry spoke up. “I don’t think he’s right for me. I know he’s not. None of them were.”

“How would you know that?” Louis said, looking into his cup, digging his spoon down deep.

“I already know who is,” Harry said so softly Louis almost missed it. He thought he’d imagined it too until he looked up and found Harry’s eyes on him. Harry was looking at Louis. Louis was looking at Harry. And everything else just stopped.

Times like these Harry was all alpha. Unflinching and unwavering and holding Louis’ gaze like it belonged to him. Louis imagined that Harry’s heart was beating madly in his chest because his certainly was. But if Harry was even the slightest bit nervous or unsure, it didn’t show at all.

Harry _was_ an alpha. Harry didn’t have any reason to be nervous or unsure. If Harry wanted Louis, Louis knew that Harry could have him. He wouldn’t even put up a fight. Harry had every ounce of power in this situation and Louis’ heart was ready to leap right out of his chest.

Harry still hadn’t even blinked, was still watching Louis squirm and knowing that he was the cause. Finally, after what felt like forever but was really only about ten seconds, Louis dropped his gaze.

“That is,” Louis started. He reached up to push his fringe to the side and worked a grin back onto his face. “That’s good for you, Haz.” _What_? Louis rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. He put his cup down and ignored that his hands were shaking.

“Louis,” Harry said, his voice way too deep. Louis could feel his insides smoldering just from the sound of it.

Louis stared down at his hands, folded in his lap.

“Please, look at me,” Harry said.

Louis whined internally. He released a big breath of air before meeting Harry’s eyes. Harry gave him a small smile.

“Are you done with your ice cream?” Harry asked.

Louis raised an eyebrow. “What?” he said. He looked at his cup, having completely forgotten about it. “I am.”

“Pretty good, yeah?”

Louis looked at him like he was crazy. Had he just imagined the whole thing? Had Harry not just told him that he wanted him? Sure, he hadn’t said it in those words, but the implication was clear. Louis was sure of it. And now Harry was asking about fucking ice cream?

“Harry,” Louis said.

“What?” He raised both eyebrows.

Louis stared at him. He considered dropping the subject. But, in the end, he couldn’t. Things like these didn’t just go away. Louis realized that they never would. “Why are you asking me about my ice cream?”

Harry frowned, “Why not?”

Louis clenched his jaw. “Sorry but did I hear you wrong just now?”

Harry’s gaze darted over Louis’ face. “Depends on what you heard,” he said.

“You said you knew who was right for you. Who is it?” Louis asked, dread filling him at the possibility that Harry might name someone else.

“You want a name or…?”

“Harry—” Louis started.

“Louis.”

Louis groaned. “Stop. Just tell me.”

“I just did.”

Louis’ forehead crinkled in confusion. “What?”

“You asked me who. I gave you a name.”

He understood then, suddenly. “My name.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Louis said, though it came out whinier than he intended.

Harry thought about that for a moment. “Because I do?” he answered.

“But _why_ do you want to? Because of what happened between us? Because that’s a stupid reason.”

Harry tensed. “You think I want to be with you because we fucked?”

Louis cringed. He glanced over at the elderly couple and their grandchildren but they weren’t paying attention. The clerk had disappeared. Louis wanted to avoid Harry’s gaze for as long as possible. There was anger in his voice that Louis had never heard directed his way. He had an odd mix of desires, both to scurry away from Harry and to comfort him. He found it particularly hard to wrap his mind around the “I want to be with you” bit.

“You don’t?” Louis said. That might not have been the right thing to say. Harry’s eyes narrowed, the bright green of his irises morphing into black.

“I can’t believe you’d actually think that,” Harry said sounding hurt.

Louis felt sick. “I don’t mean it like that.”

“You said it like that,” Harry replied.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying. You surprised me and now I’m not making any sense.”

“Lou, how big of a surprise is it really?” Harry said, his voice softening.

That shut him up. Harry was right. This never should have come as a surprise to him. All this time he’d tried to explain Harry’s attraction to him as purely primal, as if Harry wasn’t even in control of the way he felt. He told himself that it was the circumstances, the sex really, that made Harry interested. But he didn’t realize how insulting that might have been to Harry. He should have known that Harry wasn’t like that.

Maybe Harry’s feelings were genuine and he truly liked Louis just because he was Louis. But if anything that made the situation even worse. Louis still didn’t think he could be the omega that Harry needed and deserved. He was suddenly terrified of disappointing him. What if he couldn’t even have children? What if Louis fucked things up and their broken bond eventually ruined the band? Louis thought of the millions of misfortunes that could fall on their relationship and he was terrified.

Louis loved Harry. There was no universe in which that wasn’t true. And if anything were to destroy what they had, he couldn’t see himself ever recovering. Dating strangers from his mum’s list of possible suitors was easy, even when it failed, because losing them was of no consequence. But if he tried with Harry and failed with Harry, it would ruin him.

He rubbed at his eyes, feeling the burn behind his lids once more.

“Don’t cry. I’m sorry,” Harry said quickly.

Louis shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “I just have a massive headache.”

“I’ll take you home,” Harry said at once. He disposed of their cups and they walked back to Harry’s Range Rover in silence. On the drive back, Harry put the radio on, even though it freaked them both out hearing their songs come on. But anything was better than the silence. Louis tried to fall asleep again and failed, his mind and body too tense. Whenever he dared to glance at Harry he noted the way his knuckles had gone white as he gripped the steering wheel. His face was also flushed and he gnawed on his bottom lip in deep concentration.

Louis wanted to talk to him but had no words that would suffice. They spent the two-hour drive to Doncaster in more silence. When a One Direction song came on the radio, Harry changed the channel. A song Louis recognized was flowing out of the speakers. King and Lionheart, he thought it was called. As confirmation, the singer canted the chorus and Louis got lost in the truth of it. _As the world comes to an end, I’ll be here to hold your hand. Cause you’re my king and I’m your lionheart._

He glanced over at Harry again, not realizing that they had come to a traffic light. Harry was looking at him too. Then the light changed and Harry looked away. Not long after, Harry pulled up to Louis’ house and parked, leaving the engine running. Obviously he wasn’t coming in.

“Tell your family I said hi,” he said.

Louis stepped out of the car. “Sure,” he said, holding the door open. “Harry—”

“Can I just say that I love you? I know this is probably not the best time to say that. But I do. Not as a friend. I’m in love you,” he said. He took a big, deep breath. “That’s all.”

Louis swallowed thickly. He wasn’t used to crying so much. His hormones must have been out of sorts. Some of his mum’s hormone balancing soup would do him good.

“Thank you,” Louis said. He wasn’t going to cry. Maybe later in the shower. Maybe in bed. But not in front of Harry. Not again. “I just…I need to clear my head a bit. Just let me think and we’ll talk, yeah?”

Harry nodded. “Whatever you want. Goodnight, Louis.”

Louis could tell that he was upset. Harry was pretty bad at hiding it. But Louis still said “goodnight” and shut the door and let him drive away.

All day Harry had given more and more of himself. Even when Louis gave him nothing in return, Harry poured out more comfort and honesty than Louis even thought possible. Instead of doing the same, Louis had watched his own unspoken words collect like dead flies on a windowsill. Soon enough, he wouldn’t be able to bear the weight of them, and then it would only be a matter of which broke first: him or his relationship with Harry?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be the last. But I really enjoy writing ABO fics about Harry and Louis, so I probably will do so again. 
> 
> Sorry about any typos. If they exist, I'll find them soon enough.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leaving kudos, commenting, bookmarking, and existing. You're all appreciated and loved.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it. After three long months, I've finally written what I think is a satisfactory ending to this story. But the only way to truly know if it's any good is, of course, to see what you all think. 
> 
> That said, I hope you enjoy reading and I hope this isn't a disappointment. And thank you in advance for allowing me to share this world with you.
> 
> Note: This chapter is significantly longer than previous chapters. So grab a cup of tea and a blanket maybe?

There existed only one instance in the past when Louis and Harry had gone without speaking for an unusual amount of time. Even now they preferred not to mention it. But if they were being honest, it had always remained there in the back of their minds, slowly blighting their friendship and waiting for its chance to rise again.

It all began a year ago, a few days before Louis’ birthday when Harry had organized the best birthday soiree Louis could have ever hoped for. It was just the right mixture of elegance and juvenile foolery and everyone in attendance was absolutely wild. Though no one could compete with the Tommo himself who was more out of control than Harry had ever seen. Probably if Harry hadn’t stopped him, they would’ve been rushing him to a hospital for every paparazzo to see.

The point was that Louis was absolutely pissed drunk by the time the night ended and not the least bit sensible about his life choices. And Harry, being fully aware and understanding of that fact, would decide after it was all over not to make a big deal of what happened.

Harry was escorting Louis up to his room in case he happened to stumble down a flight of stairs or get himself abducted. As usual, Louis was firing off a barrage of alcohol-induced compliments at Harry as they ascended in the lift. Louis had often liked to compliment Harry incessantly and teasingly, until Harry blushed or shoved him away. This time was no different, though Louis slurred on every other word. He ran his hands through Harry’s hair and wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist, burrowing himself into his chest. He told him how amazing he smelled, not even realizing the sexual implications that would carry coming from an omega to an alpha. But it was all quite normal—enjoyable even, evidenced by Harry encircling Louis with his own arms and holding him close. What Harry didn’t expect was what happened next.

Louis mumbled into Harry’s shirt, “thanks for everything, Haz.”

“You already thanked me at least forty times,” Harry said, his words also muffled since his face was buried in Louis’ hair. But he grinned anyway, quite pleased with himself.

“I have to because you deserve it because you’re so perfect,” Louis said, squeezing Harry tighter. He burped suddenly and laughed at himself like it was the funniest thing to happen that night. Harry laughed too, his face crinkled with equal parts confusion and amusement. Louis said again, “Really perfect.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “’M not. Shut up,” he said.

Louis pulled away from his chest so he could look him in the eye. His face was flushed, most likely from the myriad of inebriating beverages coursing through his veins. His hair was coiffed, though expiring quickly. The first four buttons of his shirt were undone because he’d grown feverish from dancing. Altogether, even though Harry knew he shouldn’t be thinking it, he was in fact thinking that Louis looked ridiculously sexy. Louis moved his hands from Harry’s waist to either side of his face, palms pressed against his neck as he spoke next. “I mean it,” he said as seriously as he could manage. “Perfect. ‘M so happy to have you. Honestly.”

Harry smiled, his own face reddening and his brow creasing at the sudden intimacy of the moment. He opted to simply go along with what was happening, though he wouldn’t be an alpha if he couldn’t pick up on the signals Louis was sending his way. Louis had a look in his eye that Harry hadn’t seen before directed at him (not explicitly anyway) that he could only describe as unfiltered lust. He thought he might be imagining it but there was also a heady, alluring scent filling the air that made Harry feel dizzy with sudden need.

While it was weird that all these things should be happening now, when it was just he and Louis alone in a lift, Harry couldn’t quell his curiosity to find out how this moment would unfold. But alas the lift came to a stop at their penthouse floor and they disembarked. Harry placed a hand at Louis’ waist (to steady him, of course), leading him to his door. Louis searched each of his pockets, growing anxious when he couldn’t find his key card. Harry watched him, sending up cosmic pleas for Louis to find it at any minute or they would have to head back downstairs to get a spare from concierge.

“Ah hah!” Louis said, holding the card up. “In my pocket the whole time.” Harry didn’t understand how Louis could be equally adorable and pitiful at the same time. Louis paused, not yet unlocking his door and smiled at Harry.

The atmosphere felt bizarre and charged with tension and Harry didn’t know why this night was any different from any other night. But it was. And while his next move would normally be to help Louis to bed, something told him that going into a dark hotel room with Louis right now was looking for trouble or a birthday shag. Same thing, really. So Harry tried to make the mature decision.

“Happy Birthday, again. See you in the morning?” he said.

Louis raised both brows. “What, you’re leaving? What if I trip and die before I make it to bed?”

“I’m not all that sober myself, Lou,” Harry said.

“You’re sober-er,” Louis replied and then frowned at his odd new word. “Anyways, it’s my birthday and I think I deserve to be tucked in.”

“You’re birthday technically isn’t for another six days,” Harry continued to argue, though at the mention of tucking Louis in, he’d already taken the key card from him and was unlocking the door.

They stumbled inside. Well, Louis stumbled. Harry had enough coordination to maneuver in the dark. In retrospect, he probably should have cut on a few lights. People tended to be a bit more sensible in brightly lit spaces. But to add to the list of mistakes Harry would make that night, he left the lights off.

Harry led Louis to the loo and then got to work finding his toothbrush and a clean flannel for him to wash his face. Louis hopped up onto the cool marble beside the sink and Harry shuddered as Louis barely avoided hitting his head on the mirror. Louis only laughed at himself, swinging his legs back and forth as he waited for Harry. He took the toothbrush Harry offered him and began brushing, his eyes still trained on Harry. He didn’t say another word, having gone strangely quiet and pensive all of a sudden.

Harry filled a glass with water and found some aspirin. For the most part, he tried not to meet Louis’ gaze for too long because that lusty look was there in his blue eyes again and every part of Harry’s alpha being was itching to do something about it. When Louis was finished brushing, Harry handed him the water and the aspirin while he bent down to unlace Louis’ shoes, feeling Louis’ gaze on the back of his neck. Louis ran his hand through Harry’s curls. Only then did Harry realize that Louis hadn’t really stopped touching him since they’d stepped into the lift, his hands moving from his waist to his neck to his hair then back again. Now, the feeling of Louis’ hands in his hair was bliss. If Harry were a cat, he might have purred.

“Such a good alpha,” Louis said. There was a laugh tacked on to the end of his sentence but it was cut short when Harry looked up at him, his brow creased and his lips pressed together firmly. Again what Louis had said was packed with sexual implications. Maybe in normal circumstances Harry would write it off as a joke and nothing more. But right now, when he could literally feel the tension in the air like claws on his skin, it wasn’t funny. Not funny at all, really.

“Is Zayn coming back tonight?” Harry asked and then berated himself mentally because it made him sound like he didn’t want Zayn to come back, like he wanted them to have the room to themselves. Really, he just wanted someone else to talk about, someone that wasn’t him or Louis, or him _and_ Louis. Harry was also genuinely interested in where Zayn was, since he’d been half-hoping that Zayn would be in the room already. Anything to stop him from drunk-fucking his best mate. Louis and Zayn always shared a room since Zayn was the only other non-alpha in the group. But he wasn’t here now and that made Harry a little more nervous than he’d like to admit.

“Dunno,” Louis said quietly. Harry finished removing his shoes and stood to his feet.

“Seems he’s partying harder than you on your own birthday,” Harry said. “Funny that.”

Louis shrugged. “Bit shameful for me too, innit? Would’ve stayed longer if you hadn’t gotten all parental,” Louis said.

Harry looked at Louis with mock-offense. “Sorry if I think it’d be kind of tragic for you to die of alcohol poisoning before your actual birthday.”

“Point made,” Louis said. “But really, it was such a fucking amazing party. Kind of hard not to get completely pissed drunk. Like, you did such a fucking amazing job. And I’m fucking amazed. And you, well you’re like. I dunno, really fucking amazing.”

Harry smiled, cheeks dimpling deeply. “How amazing?”

“Fucking amazing,” Louis said. “Am I making sense?”

Harry nodded. “Just about.”

“I just…I feel like I’m noticing everything now. I feel like Bradley Cooper in Limitless, like I’ve taken this drug and I can see things about you that I hadn’t seen before,” Louis said.

“Did someone give you something to take?” Harry asked with concern, ignoring the flutter in his chest.

“What? No, shut up. I’m saying like you were already amazing before,” Louis said, lifting his hand and coursing his fingers through the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck. He went on, “But now you’re like…” he thought hard about it. Or at least, he tried. He really did. “Fucking amazing. And that’s all. I just wanted to say that.”

“You are too, Lou,” Harry half-whispered. He didn’t know why he was whispering; only that it seemed right to do so. “That’s why you deserved a night like this.”

Louis nodded. They fell into silence, momentarily just looking at each other. It wasn’t awkward, though full of tension. Finally, Louis dropped his gaze.

“Let’s say that I wanted one more thing,” Louis said sheepishly, his blue eyes darting up to Harry’s. He held up one finger in case for some reason Harry didn’t understand.

“Aside from tucking you in?” Harry said pointedly.

Louis nodded, smiling. “Just one,” he said quietly.

“Okay,” Harry said tentatively, already picking up on where this was going. “What is it?”

“You have to come closer,” Louis said. His fingers curled in Harry’s hair, causing a gentle tug at the roots. It was accidental but in combination with everything else, it only made the lust Harry had been unconsciously fighting back come front-and-center. They were suddenly so close to each other now. Harry didn’t know exactly what was happening but the world seemed to have frozen in anticipation, much like him. Louis still hadn’t said what he wanted but by now, Harry thought it was quite clear. Yet, all he could do was wait for Louis’ next move, wait for Louis to shatter the suspense. And that he did.

Louis used his hold on the back of Harry’s neck to keep him right where he wanted him. He leaned in and pressed their mouths together in a quick and sloppy kiss. Then he pulled away just as quickly as he had drawn closer. It happened so fast Harry thought he might have imagined it. But the feeling of Louis’ lips remained on his own. They were silent for a moment, staring at each other.

“Sorry,” Louis whispered. “Was that okay?”

Harry nodded. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. He wanted to say something else that would better reassure Louis. But English was failing him. He felt like he’d waited too long for something like this to happen between him and Louis. And now that it had, well forgive him if he had no clue what to do next.

It figured that Louis would be the one to initiate it too. Louis was impulsive and didn’t always think things through. Or if he did, he never went along with the plans he formulated in his head. Louis did whatever Louis wanted to do. And honestly so did Harry because, alpha or not, he sincerely thought everything Louis did was perfect and funny and really just absolutely perfect.

Right then, Harry knew that biologically if he wanted to kiss Louis again—which of course, he did—he could make Louis kiss him. Omegas had an impulsive need to fulfill the desires of alphas. It would be so simple. But where was the fun in that? How could he ever force anything on Louis when Louis was a force to be reckoned with all on his own? When it was Louis’ bravado and independence that had always attracted him in the first place?

“I kind of want to do it again,” Louis said. He was talking so quietly Harry would’ve had a hard time understanding him if he wasn’t tuned into every word. “Can we do it again?”

It took exactly 0.5 seconds for their mouths to fall together again and even less time for them to become completely absorbed in each other. Harry loved kissing Louis and without having to think hard at all, he could imagine kissing him anytime, anywhere, and for as long as possible.

He attempted to maintain some control somewhere in the corner of his mind. But this had all the potential to escalate. Time passed unnoticeably for them, everything seemingly happening in fast forward. Harry felt desperate like if he didn’t take advantage of this moment now, it might never happen again. They were so close, so close to moving to the bed and finishing what they started. Maybe they might have if Zayn hadn’t stormed into the loo right then.

Harry broke away from Louis, ignoring how red and puffy his lips were or how glassy his eyes looked. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he slid them in his pocket though that only drew attention to the massive erection he was sporting.

“Shit,” Zayn said. “Sorry. Could I just…?” He pointed to the toilet.

“It’s okay,” Harry said, backing away from Louis. “I should probably go. Yeah, I’m gonna go. Goodnight,” he said to them both. But he failed to make eye contact with either of them as he left—Louis because the smell of his slick was still in the air and driving Harry more insane by the second; and Zayn because he’d just interrupted one of the best things to happen since God knew when and he was a little annoyed to be honest. Really he should have been grateful since he’d been not to far from dragging Louis to bed and probably, drunkenly mating him. How many alphas and omegas in the world had mated accidentally because they were too drunk to remember how their bodies worked?

And also, Harry had always been thankful that Zayn roomed with Louis now since it hadn’t always been that way. In the beginning, Louis had been given a room to himself. They were all told repeatedly that it was unsafe and potentially problematic otherwise, but Louis and Harry were often scolded for sleeping together anyway, sometimes in the same bed, sometimes wrapped around each other.

It had never been an issue before. Not really. Or so Harry told himself. While he’d obviously be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to Louis, he and Louis had boundaries and they understood each other in a way most alphas and omegas failed to. Louis was his best mate and nothing more and that was okay. Truly, it was.

Harry understood when Louis didn’t really speak to him the next morning. He wore sunglasses and a beanie and kept quiet all through breakfast. He was hung-over and probably still trying to sort through the previous night. But it went on that way with Louis blatantly avoiding Harry for about two days until finally the rest of the boys locked them in a supply closet and told them they couldn’t come out until they “sorted their shit.”

Louis finally admitted to being worried that he’d made a mess of things and couldn’t find the words to fix it. Harry told Louis that there was nothing to fix. They were fine. Everything was fine. And if Louis was quite finished avoiding him, Harry would be very happy. And that was the end of that.

* * *

 

Now, a year into the future, it had been a whole week since Harry told Louis he loved him. But honestly, in Harry’s mind, it felt like years. Years since he’d spoken to Louis for longer than five seconds. Years since he’d gotten a full night of sleep. He went through most of the day thinking he was dreaming. But then Liam or Niall or someone else would snap their fingers in front of his face and he’d come to and realize that, no he was not dreaming, and yes, Louis still hated him.

Well, okay, maybe “hate” wasn’t quite the word. But if there had been any hope that Louis loved him like he loved Louis, that hope was quickly fading, if not already gone. Logically, if Louis loved Harry, then he would’ve said so by now, right? Harry tried not to think too much about that question, though it kept him up at night and made his heart feel like it had been encased in barbed wire.

Louis came into the kitchen right then. He had his earphones tucked into his ears and his iPod stuck in his pocket. He didn’t see Harry because he was buried under a blanket in the couch with a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, trying to catch some sleep. When Louis entered, Harry kept quiet and didn’t sit up right away. Louis was singing quietly to himself and Harry always got distracted by Louis singing, no matter how softly.

Louis grabbed a bottle of water and a bowl of fruit from the fridge. As he turned, his eyes fell on Harry bundled up in the couch. He suddenly looked like he was stealing a jar of cookies and not helping himself to free fruit. Harry would have laughed if Louis weren’t blatantly terrified of being in a room alone with him. Louis threw up a hand, gave a small wave because he wasn’t a complete asshole and then went about spooning fruit into a cup. If Harry hadn’t been there, Louis probably would have eaten straight out of the bowl. But as circumstances would have it, Louis needed his fruit portable so he could flee the area as soon as possible.

Louis had been artful about his avoidance the past week. He wouldn’t be the genius everyone knew and loved if not. Most days he complained about feeling tired just so he had an excuse to eat his lunch in his dressing room. On Tuesday, Louis mentioned having to take his sisters to dinner but Harry knew that wasn’t true since his mum had texted him the same day to ask about using bay leaves in the spaghetti sauce she was making that night. It was all part of Louis’ elaborate plan to avoid doing the simplest thing of all: talk.

It gave Harry some reassurance knowing that this was at least bothering Louis and that his feelings hadn’t simply been ignored. He saw the way Louis’ eyes would sometimes flicker to his and stay there for seconds as if he got lost in all the words stuck in his head, waiting to tumble out. But then his gaze would dash to the floor, or the window, or one of the other guys.

All Harry wanted at this point was for Louis to stop ignoring him. That would have to be enough. Because after days of uncertainty, he wasn’t sure that being honest had been the right move.

Louis finished with his fruit and put everything away. Then, as Harry had predicted, he took his cup and moseyed out of the kitchen, waving goodbye as he went. Harry burrowed into his blanket and prayed for dreamless sleep and an end to all his miserable thoughts about Louis. Eventually—finally—his exhaustion overwhelmed him.

* * *

 

Without doubt, Louis was the biggest shit known to man. He was sure of it. What he was doing to Harry was what most people did to people they hated. And that just wasn’t logical, given that Louis absolutely did not hate Harry. Given that Louis was actually arse-over-tit in love with Harry.

The last week or so had proven that hell was a place on earth because it was anywhere in which the people you loved most were unreachable even within arms reach. Louis felt sometimes like he had already died. After Harry’s confession, most like. And everything after that moment had been Louis’ personal damnation.

But there was an escape. He only had to let go and stop caring about the risks, no matter how great they were. All he had to do was accept this love for however long it lasted. It would be so, so easy. But while Harry was more than worth the risk, the risk was not worth losing Harry.

Thus, Louis’ problem was this: how to communicate all this to Harry knowing that it would break his heart? He would get over eventually, Louis was sure. Harry was young and fit and funny and by far the most beautiful person Louis would ever have the pleasure of knowing. Harry was bound to find someone else, someday. But right now, Louis would be taking Harry’s big heart and breaking it just the tiniest bit and there was nothing that could prepare him to do that. Absolutely nothing.

Currently Louis was hunched over his fifth drink for the night. He was attempting, rather unsuccessfully, to build up enough liquid courage to make it until the party was over. Normally he loved a good party and this one in particular had been thrown in One Direction’s honor to celebrate the kick off of their world tour. But it felt odd to be kicking off a tour that he wasn’t particularly excited about. Even though touring was easily the best part of the job to Louis—what with performing the songs they’d all worked months to perfect and seeing the world with his four best mates—with the way things were with Harry, being trapped on a tour bus or on a plane or within talking distance with nowhere to hide didn’t seem like an ideal situation. Normally Louis would be having the time of his life. But nothing about the past few months had been normal.

The party was beginning to wind down by one a.m. and a large portion of the guests had left in search of parties elsewhere. Liam had taken off with them, while Niall and Harry were busy still charming an assorted group of people with their jokes and drunken banter. There was a beautiful female beta completely entranced with Harry who’d spent most of the night laughing loudly at all of his jokes. Louis could hear her now from halfway across the room where he sat at the bar. He heard her cackle loudly, throwing in a snort here and there.

“That one wasn’t even funny,” Louis murmured to himself before throwing back another shot. The girl erupted with laughter once again.

“Hello,” someone said directly behind him. Louis turned away from the bar when he heard the man’s voice. The polite smile on his face faded when he realized that the man standing there was an alpha and not even vaguely recognizable.

“Hi,” Louis said dismissively. He turned back to the bar as the bartender placed his next drink down.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you,” the alpha said, laughing sheepishly. “I’m a big fan is all. I’ve always wanted to meet you.”

Now Louis felt like an arse. He smiled again, more politely this time. He stuck out his hand for the man to shake. “Pleased to meet you.”

“I should be the one saying that,” the man said. “You must think it’s weird for me to be such a big fan of One Direction.”

“Not at all,” Louis said. “We’ve got fans of all ages. I’d hope that most of the people here tonight are fans to some degree. Did you come with a friend?”

“I suppose you could say that. My neighbor actually works for BBC. She knew I was a huge fan and gave me her V.I.P. badge since she couldn’t come,” he said.

Louis nodded, not sure if that was even allowed. “Well, it’s great you could make it and thank you for supporting us.”

“No, thank _you_ ,” the alpha replied and honestly, this wasn’t going as terribly as Louis thought it would. The man seemed friendly enough despite being annoyingly eager. “Honestly,” he started, stepping a bit closer to where Louis was seated on a barstool and forcing Louis to have to look up at him. Louis was instantly aware of the way the man’s voice had dropped an octave and he felt dread filling him before he even opened his mouth. “I like the band I do. But I’m particularly fond of you.”

“’ppreciate that,” Louis said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He took a sip of his drink and glanced around for a means of escape. He knew now that he’d been wrong. This man was just a typical alpha with a hidden agenda.

“Really,” the man said as if Louis didn’t believe him the first time. He reached out and settled his hand on Louis’ knee, which was bold if not foolish. In most situations, if the rest of the boys weren’t nearby, Louis always had Paul to look out for him. But since the party was pretty much over at this point and most of the guests still there were close friends and acquaintances, there hadn’t been a need for Paul’s constant watch. Judging by the fact that this man was still touching him, Paul clearly wasn’t keeping an eye on Louis now. The man prattled on: “For you as an omega to put yourself in a band with a bunch of alphas, that’s really something. That’s brave.”

Louis glanced at the man’s hand on his knee. Then he took another sip of his drink. “Don’t think it’s as amazing as you’re making it sound.”

The man laughed rather loudly. Only then did it register with Louis that he was a little drunk. He had a glass of some clear liquor in the hand that wasn’t on Louis’ knee and his face was somewhat flushed.

“Listen,” the alpha said. “I know this might be a little forward but I’m going to get out of here, maybe hit up another bar. Party’s dying down anyway. I know you’re a big celebrity and all and you’ve probably got better things to do, but maybe you want to come with?”

“Thanks but I’d better not,” Louis said without hesitation. “But have fun, mate.”

“Aw,” the alpha said, “come on, babe. It’ll be fun,” he said and Louis choked a little on his drink in surprise, as the alpha gave Louis’ knee a squeeze. It had been a while since someone came onto him like this. Since joining the band, he pretty much had round-the-clock protection and maybe an unintentional air of superiority that kept most of the truly detestable alphas from getting too close.

Louis resisted his reflex to gag. He was well past annoyed now. He twisted the glass in his hand and thought of the repercussions of breaking it over the man’s head. “I’m good here,” Louis said sourly.

But as alphas were prone to do, this one couldn’t take a hint. He began stroking Louis’ thigh, back and forth, back and forth, like that would be enough to get Louis jumping into his lap.

“Come on,” he said again, voice lower with unfiltered arousal. Louis could smell him suddenly. He could see the way his pupils were, the bit of tongue peeking out to wet his lips, and the bulge in his own trousers as his hand climbed higher and higher up Louis'. He realized then that the alpha was most likely approaching his rut. It was the only thing that made sense since the man had clearly lost all sense of reason, what with violating Louis in public and all.

Louis wasn’t worried that he’d be hurt. He knew that in any minute Paul or someone would come along and this guy would be scurry off like the scum that he was. If anything, Louis was angry. Because this man actually thought his actions were acceptable simply because he was an alpha. Simply because he was biologically superior. It pissed Louis off to know that even if he wanted to break his glass over this man’s head, this wasn’t a fight he could win. But it didn’t matter. He was five seconds away from doing it anyway.

“Pardon me,” Harry said, squeezing between Louis and the alpha and successfully breaking the contact between them. The alpha took a half-step back. Harry placed his glass down on the bar top beside Louis and slid his hand down to the small of Louis’ back. “Hello, love.” Louis relaxed instantly, a rush of warmth replacing all the negative feelings that had flooded his body.

Harry looked at the alpha who was still standing there, a little dumbstruck. “Sorry, mate, you were having a conversation, weren’t you?” He looked at Louis now and asked, “Was it very important?”

“Not at all,” Louis said, smiling grimly.

Harry smiled back. “Well then, that’s settled.”

The man frowned. “Didn’t know you two were mated,” he said suspiciously. “Figured that’d be big time news.”

Louis opened his mouth to correct him and then shrugged it off. Whatever it took to get this man to go away. Harry took a seat on the barstool opposite Louis and turned to get the bartender’s attention.

“You’re missing out,” the alpha said while Harry was seemingly distracted. He clearly wasn’t taking a hint. “In case you change your mind—”

“I think it would be best if you fucked off,” Harry said suddenly and matter-of-factly. The amiable grin he’d been sporting was gone. He looked angry now but in the muted way Louis had always experienced Harry’s anger. At first glance you couldn’t tell that all of his rage was buried just below the surface. Louis felt a strange pull towards him in that second, the same kind of force that bonded alphas and omegas. The other alpha standing there had gotten it all wrong. If you wanted to make Louis climb into your lap, this was the way you did it.

The alpha seemed to sense that Harry was on the verge of breaking his face on the marble bar and stringing his broken teeth together to adorn Louis’ neck. That might be a bit out of character for Harry, but the alpha didn’t know that. He could only sense the danger in the air and that was enough to make him take a step back and then another, until he'd backed all the way out of the room and probably into his car.

“Harry,” Louis said cautiously. Harry was still staring at the door where the man had exited, his fist curled against his knee. Hearing Louis’ voice, he seemed to snap out of his trance and met Louis’ gaze slowly.

“All right?” Louis said.

Harry nodded. “Are you?”

“Can’t complain,” Louis said, taking a sip of his drink. “Thank you. I’ll have to add that to the list of things I owe you for.”

“You don’t owe me for anything,” Harry said, the tension slowly leaking from his body. “Maybe if I hit him and he pressed charges or something, that would be a different story.”

Louis laughed. “For a second, I thought you would hit him. You had the whole menacing alpha thing down.”

Harry signaled to the bartender again. “I’ll have what he’s having,” he told the bartender. He turned back to Louis, his brow furrowed. “What alpha thing?”

Louis shrugged. “Dunno. Just that most alphas are always like that. You know, all threatening like they’re always ready to thump someone. But you’re not like that. You’re nice.”

The bartender placed Harry’s drink down. “Thanks,” Harry said and then to Louis, “Am I not threatening?”

“Hmm, not quite,” Louis said smiling.

“Well, I feel like I should be offended now,” Harry said.

Louis laughed at him. “I dunno what I’m saying, Haz. You’re just different.”

“But I do at least seem like an alpha to you,” Harry said, taking a sip of his drink. “Don’t I?” His tone was suddenly a bit more serious and genuinely inquisitive.

“Of course you do. But you’re different,” Louis repeated. He didn’t know how to word it. Harry’s gentleness had always confused Louis, who’d expected every alpha to be like the ones he’d grown up with. Even Liam and Niall were a bit abrasive when they were ready. Louis associated alphas with taking what they wanted. But, Harry? Harry asked politely, and Harry liked to snuggle, and Harry hadn’t knotted him when he had the opportunity. He ruined every preconceived notion Louis had about alphas and Louis didn’t know how to handle that. He had enough trouble trying to figure out what it meant to be an omega and now he had to reevaluate what it meant to be an alpha too.

Harry stared at him. “And that’s good?”

Louis remained quiet for a long time. He looked down at his drink, emptied the glass and placed it on the bar top. “Yeah, that’s good,” he finally said, “I like different.”

“That settles it then, doesn’t it? You like different. You think I’m different. Logically, that means you like me,” Harry said cheekily. He was only joking. Probably not the best one. But he wasn’t good at jokes anyhow.

“Guess so,” Louis agreed, not really laughing. He stood up. “I’m knackered. Probably gonna head off now. Tell everyone I said goodnight?”

“Wait, Louis,” Harry said, wrapping his hand gently around Louis’ wrist. “Can we talk for a minute?”

Louis took a deep breath. “Thought that’s what we were doing.”

“I mean about us,” Harry replied. “This is the first time we’ve spoken in a whole week. I’ve had enough of this, haven’t you?”

“What do you think?” Louis said, not sarcastically, but like he didn’t have the strength to explain himself right then, which was okay because, in that moment, Louis saw all of his exhaustion reflected back at him in Harry’s face. They’d both had more than enough.

Louis sank back down onto the bar stool and Harry released his wrist, settling his hands in his own lap. “I don’t know what to say,” Louis said honestly. “I feel like I’ve really messed things up, Harry. I’ve confused everything. Like last time.”

Harry was quiet for a moment, which Louis anticipated. They hadn’t spoken about their first kiss since they’d left the supply closet two years ago.

“This time’s a bit different though, isn't it?” Harry said, “Maybe two years ago, I didn’t know what to do about what I was feeling. But I do now. I’m not confused about anything. I don’t really think you are either.” 

Louis’ brow furrowed in confusion.

Harry scooted forward and unlike with the other alpha, Louis had no desire to move away. “I don’t think you’re confused,” Harry repeated. “I think maybe you’re scared.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Louis said defensively. Now maybe he wanted some distance. Of course he was scared. But that was the one thing he didn’t want to admit to Harry. He never wanted to admit that to anyone really. But of course Harry had figured it out all on his own and they both knew it.

“I would,” Harry said firmly. “I think you’re scared enough to pretend that you’re confused. Even though you know exactly what you want.”

“And what’s that?” Louis said.

Harry shrugged again. “Me. Us. However you’d like to put it.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Louis said shaking his head.

“I don’t see how,” Harry said.

Louis rubbed at his face. “You’re not going to understand...”

“If you don’t explain, you aren’t even giving me a chance to try,” Harry said.

Louis hesitated. He licked his lips and wiped his sweaty palms down his trousers. He glanced around and the thought finally occurred to him that this probably wasn’t the best place to have this conversation. A private place would have been better after Louis had thought enough about what he needed to say. But he already had. He’d thought about it enough and it was never going to get any easier.

“Our friendship means a lot to me…” Louis began, his voice shaky. Was that where he’d been planning to start? He didn’t remember. He couldn’t recall any part of the speech he’d been working on. He took a deep breath and started again. “You mean a lot to me and I think if this didn’t work out, there’d be too much that I’d be losing and you too. We’d both be losing a lot. I don’t think it’s as simple as it seems. You think now that you like me a lot..”

“Love you,” Harry interrupted. “I love you.”

Louis clenched his jaw and looked down at his hands again. “Okay, that. You think that’s how you feel, but we’re talking about forever here. We can’t just fool around for a bit and then if it doesn’t work out, we just walk away. Even if we decided to end things one day, we’d still be mated to each other and you’d be stuck with me forever. Forever is a fucking…”

“Long time?” Harry interrupted again. Louis sighed. “I’ve thought about that. I know how long forever is and I still want to spend it with you.”

“Easy, Shakespeare,” Louis said, his cheeks flushing. He glanced around again. “All I’m saying is that you seem really confident now but in like 5 years when you realize what an annoying shit I am, you won’t be so sure then.”

“I already think you’re an annoying shit,” Harry said. “It doesn’t make me love you any less. It won’t. I don’t know how it works for you, Louis. But for me, you’re it. I know I’m never going to feel this way about anyone else and I’ve accepted that.”

Louis was baffled. He didn’t understand how it could be possible that Harry felt the same way he did and he didn’t believe it. As far as he knew, things didn’t work out this perfectly in real life. You didn’t just meet the ultimate guy, fall in love with him, and find out that he was in love with you too. Eventually, some day, the ultimate guy would realize that he needed someone just as spectacular as he was.

“You’ve always been much stronger than me, Harry, and not just because you’re an alpha,” Louis said.

Despite everything Harry had said, Louis’ fear was indelible. To Louis, Harry was perfect in every way that a person could be perfect and the idea that someone so perfect might want to be with him was overwhelming and unbelievable.

He would fuck it up. He was sure of it. Maybe not now but someday. Then he and Harry would be ruined. The band would be ruined. Louis would definitely be ruined. And Harry would be left to clean up the mess he made.

“Sorry,” Louis said too quietly, looking down at his hands. He couldn’t even maintain eye contact with Harry as he spoke. He tried to speak a bit louder the next time. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Harry. I just…this isn’t a good idea. That’s what I think.”

“Louis,” Harry said. “Look at me.”

Louis did as requested, though he had an automatic desire to look away.

“Tell me again that we aren’t a good idea,” Harry said.

When Harry said the words back to him, they sounded ten times worse than he ever meant for them to. But there was no point in sugarcoating them. There was really no point in anything anymore. “I don't think we are...” Louis said.

Harry’s big green eyes searched Louis’ face momentarily. Louis eventually dropped his gaze again. Harry looked for a moment like he wanted to say more. Instead, he released a deep breath he must have been holding and gave one small nod. He stood up and Louis felt terrified for a moment like this was it. This was the moment they fell apart. And it seemed hopeless because even when he was trying to protect their friendship, he ended up destroying it anyway.

“Harry,” he said quickly. “We’ll still be friends. Right?”

Harry looked at him or just past him, as if he really couldn't stand to look at Louis' face any longer. His next words were filled with all the frustration and hopelessness Louis had no doubt inflicted upon him. “Whatever you want, Lou," he said.

* * *

 

Louis woke the next morning in his room. He didn’t really remember how he’d gotten home, only that, after Harry had left, he’d thrown back at least ten more shots of tequila. He remembered puking in the loo, hunched over a sink as Zayn patted his back and Niall retrieved a cup of fresh water. He remembered suddenly bursting into nonsensical sobs, much to Niall’s confusion, though he thankfully didn’t ask any of the questions that must have been swarming in his head. Even if he had asked, Louis probably wouldn’t have been able to answer him. Zayn held Louis closer, not minding the remnants of Louis’ regurgitated lunch drying on his collar. He held Louis until he fell asleep in his lap. Louis figured that Zayn and Niall must have taken him home not long after that or at least, called a car for him, and he made a mental note to thank them for it later.

He blinked his eyes open slowly, kicking off the sheets from his clammy body. He felt feverish and his head throbbed so badly he thought it would implode. Thinking that he was suffering from some abnormal hangover, he took some aspirin with a glass of water from the faucet. He returned to bed, rolled over and without meaning to, he fell asleep again. 

The next time he woke, he was on his back. This time when he opened his eyes, he was met with the sight of his dick tenting the front of his pants. Could have been nothing more than a little morning stiffy. But Louis was pretty sure that wasn’t the case. He finally registered the moisture building between his legs and he groaned as the realization gutted him.

Too distracted by the doctor being an absolute arse, Louis had forgotten the part during his appointment where he’d been warned that his next few heats might be just a bit off schedule. “But rest assured,” the doctor had said. “We’ll get everything stabilized at least by January.”

Louis wanted to punch that guy in the throat, even though he hadn’t been the one to prescribe the new suppressants in the first place.

His stomach rumbled loudly in the quiet space of his room and he remembered that he hadn’t even gotten a chance to eat dinner last night. He figured he at least had another five or six hours before his first wave hit him, which was more than enough time for him to get breakfast. He wandered downstairs and found his mum already making breakfast and fiddling with her iPad.

“Morning,” Louis said as he got closer to her. She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek as he walked by.

“Why are you so sweaty?” she said, peering at him over the rim of her glasses.

“Last heat of the year,” Louis said with a bitter smile as he poured himself another bigger, colder glass of water.

“Not today,” his mum whined. “I needed you to help me with Christmas shopping for the girls.”

“I’ve got at least six hours or so before the fun begins. We could go out if you’d like. I’d be fine,” he said.

She shot him a look. “Too risky. Plus, I think the Santa at the mall is an alpha.”

“What’s that have to do with me?” Louis asked as he sat on the stool beside her with a piece of dry toast. Would have been much better with jam surely but he lacked the dedication to fetch some.

“You were always such a fan of his…” she cooed.

Louis scoffed. “When I was five,” he said. He noticed she’d grown quiet and glanced up at her to find her eyes trained on his. She reached out and tilted his chin upwards, focusing hard until she had Louis feeling a bit disturbed. “Have you been crying?” she finally asked.

Louis pulled his chin away. He took a huge bite of his toast.

His mum sat down, pulling off her reading glasses. “Zayn brought you back last night. He said you might have gotten into a fight with Harry…”

Louis shrugged. “Don’t know if I want to talk about it.”

She exhaled loudly. “Harry also texted me about an hour ago to make sure you were alright.”

Louis ignored the throbbing in his chest. Thoughts about Harry were not good for his headache or his encroaching heat. “Be nice if you two stopped texting all the time,” Louis said bitterly.

“But he’s quite fun to text. He sends pictures and jokes every now and then and helps me with recipes. Communicates better than you,” she said. “So I assume Zayn was right? Something happened between you two last night?”

“Yeah but we’ll be fine,” Louis assured her.

“How so?”

Louis thought about the best way to explain this to her. Then he decided that he was too tired to try so hard. He settled on telling it exactly how it was. “I told him we were best off as friends,” Louis said.

“He wanted to be more than friends?” she asked.

“So he said. He wanted to actually, you know, do the mating thing, which I think is ridiculous,” Louis rambled. He wiped at the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. “He’s only twenty and he thinks he knows who he wants to spend the rest of his life with already. And even worse, he thinks he wants to spend it with me. He even told me he loves me.”

His mum propped her chin up on her hand. “And you told him….?”

“Not a good idea,” Louis shrugged.

“And you feel good about your decision?” she wondered.

Louis nodded slowly. “I think it was the right thing to do.”

“So why were you crying?”

That was a solid question. Didn’t mean that Louis had a solid answer. “Dunno.”

His mum nodded. She took a sip of her tea, rotated the mug in her hands. “I think you made a mistake, Louis.”

Louis huffed in exasperation. “Of course you do. Aren't you the very one who told me this thing between me and Harry wasn’t going anywhere?”

“That’s because I thought neither of you were serious. But obviously that’s not the case. I mean he told you he _loves_ you and you turned him down. I never told you to do that. Frankly, it doesn’t make much sense and I think you know that,” she said. “So what’s this really about?”

“What are you talking about? I just told you,” he said.

“And I’m telling you that it doesn’t make sense. I think there’s a bigger issue here,” she said. “Like I think maybe you’re just scared.”

Louis looked at her in disbelief. “Do I have that word written on my forehead?”

“No,” she laughed. “It’s obvious, love, and a bit surprising. That’s not to say that you’re never scared. But normally you never let fear stop you. Like when you told me you wanted to audition for X-Factor? We were both terrified. But look where you are now…” she explained. “But when it comes to Harry, you’re so sensible and so worried about things not working out. And I think all of that is valid. You have a right to be worried and to be scared. But it’s not like you to let fear keep you from something or someone you love.”

“Did I say I love him?”

She gave him a look. “That’s obvious too. I think the other part of all this is that you just want the very best for Harry because you love him. Which makes me wonder why you can’t see that the best for Harry might be you.”

Louis drummed his fingers on the table idly. “I think he could do better.” He instantly regretted saying those words to his mother. Her expression grew solemn and she remained quiet for too long. The atmosphere was too tense. He just wanted to go take a cold shower. He was done thinking about Harry and feeling sorry for himself or having his mum feel sorry for him.

“Maybe you’re right,” she said quietly. Louis raised an eyebrow, not expecting that response. “I think we can both agree that Harry deserves someone who will love him as much as he loves them. And someone who won’t doubt all the love he has for them.” She stood up to take her cup to the sink but continued talking. “He deserves someone who will believe in him and believe in their relationship. Someone willing to work hard at it because it isn’t easy.”

“I believe in him. And I can work hard. That’s not the issue,” Louis said.

“But it is. He told you he loved you and you told him it wasn’t a good idea because what? You’re too young? You won’t love each other the same way ten years from now?  I don’t think you realize but each time you doubt yourself, you doubt him too. You’ve made it clear that you don’t believe he can love you enough.”

“That wasn’t what I was trying to do. I do believe in him. But a relationship takes two people. And if I mess it up, Harry can’t just fix it all on his own.”

“Then don’t mess it up,” she said.

Louis rolled his eyes. “Honestly, if it were that easy, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“But it is that easy. You love Harry right?”

Louis sighed. “Thought it was obvious?”

She ignored his sass. “If you love him as much as I think you do, then I don’t think you’ll let anything mess this up,” she explained. “So the true question is how much do you love Harry?”

Louis thought about it even though he already knew the answer. He thought about how much he loved Harry and he imagined for a moment that all of his love was somehow the key to this whole problem like his mum was suggesting.

And it was kind of magical the way the pieces of the puzzle fell together in Louis’ head. Not completely solved. But the solution at least made sense now, as if His mum's words had opened a doorway to the bigger picture. All along Louis had been doubting himself and his ability to make things work with Harry. But one thing he absolutely didn’t doubt was the amount of love he had for Harry, which was infinitely more than he could ever explain to his mum, and if he could put his faith in that then he knew he could make this work. At the very least, he could try his damned hardest.

As for all the doubt he had in himself, that was a demon he’d have to tackle one day at a time. He didn’t know exactly when the self-doubt had started. Maybe over ten years ago, when he first realized that he was treated differently than other boys and never really understood why. His mum had tried her best to explain it to him. But it didn’t make sense back then why he looked like a boy and acted like a boy but couldn’t sleep in the same tents as boys during camping trips or why, when asked, his teachers told the other boys that Louis was ill and that was why he had to sleep alone even though Louis felt just fine. And after he hit puberty and his first heat came through, why Stan didn’t want to hang out with him anymore and why other boys who he’d grown up with no longer treated him like he was a friend, but more like he was a prize who would one day belong to one of them. Maybe these were all things that came along with being an omega, however shitty they were. But Louis never quite figured out how to handle them.

Instead, he internalized all of the anger that came from being who he was until slowly it began to morph into self-hatred and self-doubt. Maybe that was why he auditioned for X-Factor and signed the contract with One Direction. Not just because he loved singing but because what better way to prove himself than to leave home and travel the world without his mum and with three alphas.

But as fearless as he wanted to appear, there had been that one area where the self-hatred and self-doubt lingered and that was when it came to Harry. Because Harry saw past all the walls that Louis had put up and easily, without even trying, he became the one person that Louis absolutely could not lose under any circumstances and Louis was so terrified, more so than he could explain, that one day he’d lose him anyway. Easily, he’d fallen for Harry and spent the last three years terrified that he would never be enough for the one person he wanted most.

He’d once read that before a person could be loved, they had to first love themselves. Because how could you expect to be loved if you didn’t think you were worth loving. But Louis was starting to think that wasn’t true. You didn’t have to love yourself completely or be whole for someone to love you. Sometimes broken people found love and it rescued them from their brokenness. He wasn’t sure. But if anyone’s love could do that, it would be Harry’s.

And if anyone could love Harry the way he deserved to be loved, it was Louis.

So maybe if they simply loved each other enough, it could work.

Maybe.

“Louis?” his mum said. He’d grown quiet, staring out through the window as he thought it through.

“I love him a lot,” he said numbly, swinging his gaze to his mum. “I love Harry a lot. I really love Harry.”

His mum smiled. She patted his head, running her fingers through his messy brown hair. “You should tell him so,” she said.

“I should. I should tell him now,” Louis said, standing up. Before she had a minute to comprehend what was happening, Louis had scurried off to retrieve his keys and his shoes.

“Louis, there’s a snow storm on the way,” she said.

“I’ll be fine,” Louis said.

She watched him as he pulled on his Ugg boots. “I can’t believe you’re going to drive with your heat so close to starting,” she said though she went about taking his coat down from the hook by the door in spite for her complaints. “I’m only going along with this for the sake of my future grandchildren,” she said, pulling his hat down over his head.

“Don’t get your hopes up. I’m just go talk to him,” he said as she wrapped a scarf around his neck. “Why on earth are you bundling me up like this? My skin is on fire.”

She ignored his comment about the outerwear. “I won’t be expecting you home tonight,” she said.

She led him to the door as he finished zipping up his coat. “Be safe now, Louis.” She opened the door and a gust of wind pelted freshly fallen snow into his face. The cold weather would normally be unwelcome but was a relief for Louis’ heated skin.

“Wish me luck,” he said.

“Good luck, Lou,” she said, leaning over and giving him a kiss on his cheek. He stepped outside and hurried to his car. He shot his mum a thumbs-up as he cranked the engine and backed away from the house.

When he was on the road, he tugged off the scarf and the hat his mum had attempted to mummify him with. He was trying to be conscious of the snowy roads but he wanted to get to Harry as quickly as he could. He didn’t even know what he would say. But the drive to London gave him plenty of time to think, since it was slower than usual due to the snow and all of the people doing last minute Christmas shopping. He was drumming his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of some song playing through the radio, all in an attempt to keep calm. Growing frustrated and angry could potentially propel him into his heat and he’d be stuck in traffic with no source of relief. Not to mention how lousy it would be if he showed up at Harry’s house in delirium, unable to explain himself properly. It would be like the Incident all over again.

When Louis finally pulled up outside of Harry’s house, some three hours later, the snow had gotten significantly heavier and the clouds overhead were thicker and darker. Only then did the thought occur to him that Harry might have already headed to Holmes Chapel to be with his family a week before the holidays. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text that read:

_Still in London?_

He waited, anxiously drumming his fingers on his steering wheel. He wasn’t even sure Harry would want to talk to him after last night.

_yes_

That was all Harry sent back. But it was a response nonetheless and Louis would take what he could get.

_I’m outside. Need to talk to you…_

_Come in then.._

Louis wasted no time at all yanking his keys out of the ignition. He put all of his outerwear back on, checked his face in the visor and ran his fingers through his fringe. He could have looked better but really who gave a fuck anymore. When he hopped out, he nearly slipped on a slushy patch of snow and had to slap a hand on his car to steady himself. He took a deep breath and headed off to Harry’s front gate, tapped in the five-digit code and then practically ran to the front door once it was unlocked. He didn’t have to knock. Harry opened the door before he’d even gotten to the porch.

“Hi,” Louis said, his breath pluming in the cold air.

Harry looked at him, brows furrowed. He leaned forward, nostrils flaring a bit, no doubt catching the scent of Louis’ approaching heat. “ _Louis_ ,” he said, voice hoarse and broken.

“Sorry,” Louis said quickly as Harry massaged his temples.

“For coming here when you’re in heat?” Harry said.

“I’m not technically,” Louis replied. “Really close but not quite.” He smiled self-righteously for a moment only to realize that his response hadn’t made the situation any better, evidenced by Harry’s grimace.

“Why are you here?” Harry asked, still sounding wounded.

Louis tugged at his beanie again. “The thing is I was wrong. About what I said last night. About everything really…” Louis paused. “Harry, it’s really fucking cold out here.”

“Sorry,” Harry said. He stepped away from the door, holding it open so Louis could step inside. “Niall’s here.”

“Oh,” Louis said sounding as disappointed as he felt. Niall being there complicated things, though Louis had a hard time believing that this whole ordeal could be any more complicated. He still hadn’t even figured out what he would say to Harry. And now he felt even shittier for coming when he was approaching his heat, since Niall would definitely be able to smell him too. If Louis was hoping at all for something to happen between him and Harry that hope had slightly diminished.

“Follow me,” Harry said, shutting the door and sliding his hands into his pockets. Louis trailed behind Harry, past the kitchen and into the large entertainment center where Niall was seated, watching an episode of True Blood. He barely peeled his eyes away from the screen, quite focused on what was happening.

“Sup, Louis,” he said distractedly. Louis wasn’t sure but he could’ve sworn he saw Niall’s nose twitch. Niall turned his head fully now so that he could stare at Louis. He narrowed his eyes and Louis was certain that his smell was probably all over the place. “What’s going on?” Niall said slowly, his eyes moving between Harry and Louis.

“Sorry. We have to cut the marathon short,” Harry said.

Louis gave Niall a small smile. “Sorry.”

Niall nodded, his lips pursed. He started to say something, thought better of it, and then decided to say whatever was on his mind anyway. "You're about to fuck like bunnies, aren't ya?"

"Niall," Louis groaned.

“Seriously, are you two all mated now or what?” he went on.

Harry looked down at his feet. Louis shook his head slowly. Neither of them responded. No one said anything. Finally, Niall understood and hopped to his feet. “Just know, I always knew this would happen, believed in you two from the start. When you have your first son, I think it’s only fair that you name him after his Uncle Niall.”

“Are you leaving?” Louis asked.

“One second. I want to say that you look much better today,” Niall said. To Harry, he explained, “Last night? Absolute mess, this guy.”

“Please leave,” Louis pleaded.

Niall did as he was told, though he laughed all the way to the front door. When they heard the door close with a thud that echoed through the house, Harry found the remote control and shut off the TV.

“Would you like tea? Or something else to warm you up?” Harry asked.

Really, Louis knew what Harry meant. But his hormones made it impossible to hear anything platonically, which wasn’t much different than normal. Was there ever a moment he wasn’t emotionally and/or sexually frustrated by every single thing Harry said or did? Did Louis want something to warm him up? Sure, but not a fucking cup of tea.

“I’m actually feeling a bit feverish right now,” Louis said, taking off his coat, hat and scarf and tossing them on the sofa. Harry glanced at Louis’ discarded outerwear.

“Why are you here, Louis?” Harry said for the second time.

“I already told you. I was wrong last night,” Louis said.

“Or did you come so I would fuck you through your heat?” Harry asked, seeming agitated.

Louis swallowed. “Wouldn’t mind that too,” he said quietly. “No, _no_. I came to tell you that I was wrong and very stupid and scared. I still am scared. But I was wrong to let that stop me. You deserve better than that and I’ll try my best if you’re willing to put up with all of my shit.”

“What makes you think your best isn’t enough?” Harry asked. “Louis, everything you do is more than enough. Everything. Do you remember one time you told me that if you mix strawberry and French vanilla ice cream with graham crackers it tastes just like a scone with jam and cream…”

Louis’ forehead crinkled. “What?”

“I have a point,” Harry said. “It’s like once you discover something that amazing, there’s no way you can look at ice cream the same way. Everything else just seems mediocre in comparison.”

“I don’t even remember that…” Louis said quietly but he couldn’t help but smile.

“Of course you don’t. You never remember any of the amazing things you do or just how amazing you are in general. But you are. So, so amazing. You’re my scone with jam and cream…”

“Harry,” Louis said trying not to laugh at him. “You’re not very good at this, babe.”

“I know. What I’m saying is that you’re perfect for me. And I can’t look at anyone else the same way once I know that you exist. I really don’t know how I’ve been so lucky to have found you but I have. We’ve found each other and I think we should be damn glad about that.” 

So he wasn’t actually bad at this. In fact, every word he said was making Louis’ inside feel like melted ice cream. Louis gnawed on his bottom lip. “Just, tell me this,” he said. “How do you know you won’t stop feeling this way in ten years?”

“I can’t predict the future, Louis,” Harry said. “But I trust my feelings for you and I trust you.”

Louis didn’t know when Harry grew up to be way wiser than him. But it was by far the most attractive thing he’d ever seen.

“This all seems too easy,” Louis said. 

Harry pinned him with an incredulous look. “Funny. You haven't made this easy at all…” Harry said. “You’ve making it a lot harder than it needs to be.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “I'm only being logical. Like what about the band? You don’t think this will mess things up?”

Harry narrowed his eyes at him. “I don’t care, Louis,” he said moving closer to him. Trapped under the predatory gaze Harry was giving him, Louis suppressed the urge to retreat. He didn't want to run from Harry anymore. This time, he wanted to see how it felt to be caught.

“You don’t care about the band?” Louis said the words slowly, sarcastically.

“I care about you. All I want is you,” Harry said. His legs were really too long. In just two short strides, he was already close enough to touch and Louis felt his palms itch to reach out and help Harry closer.

“You sound such like an alpha,” Louis said. “You know, you can’t just possess me, Harry.”

“As if that’s even an issue. As if you’re bothered by the idea of belonging to me. Let’s be honest, Lou, you’re already mine,” Harry said as he consumed every bit of space left between them. The heat radiating through the thin material of his shirt made Louis’ skin burn hotter.

“And I’m already yours.” Harry leaned down the same time Louis stretched up, pressing their lips together. His hands went to Louis’ slender waist, pulling him close while simultaneously backing him into one of the plastered columns that ran from the floor to the ceiling. He slipped his hands beneath Louis’ jumper, his fingers brushing the heated skin of Louis’ hips, his lower back and then gliding down Louis’ trackies to grasp his bum.

When Louis moaned, Harry took advantage of his parted lips to lick further into his mouth. They were pressed so close to each other, Louis could feel exactly how hard Harry was. He imagined he’d been hard ever since Louis stepped inside.

Louis was beginning to leak with slick. Each drop that spilled from him and pooled in his pants made Harry groan from the scent. Louis' heart thudded so loudly in his chest he swore Harry could hear it. His heat was so close now, propelled by Harry’s mouth and hands all over him. It was overwhelming and somehow, at the same time, not enough.

“Harry,” Louis whined. “Please…”

“I want you to say it,” Harry said, grinding their hips together. “I want you to tell me exactly what this is.”

Louis tried to glare at him but his eyes were bleary, his lips swollen, his cheeks flushed and any attempt at menace fell short. But honestly, was it even a question what Louis wanted at this point? Hadn't he already made it painfully obvious? Even if he hadn’t, they both knew anyway. They’d always known.

Louis rested his head against Harry’s chest, unable to look directly at him. “You already know,” he said.

“I want to hear you say it,” Harry said running his teeth against Louis’ neck as if to bite him.

“Such a fucking tease,” Louis said. He released Harry’s shirt and pushed his hands into his curly hair, gripping soft tendrils of it instead. He focused his blue eyes on Harry’s green ones. He didn't know exactly what Harry wanted to hear but he figured it went something like this:  “You’re my alpha, Harry. You always have been. Always will be,” Louis said, his voice falling into a gasp as Harry rolled his hips and their dicks, buried beneath layers of clothing, brushed painfully. Louis honestly didn’t know where he was finding the strength to speak coherently or stand on his own two feet.

“And you’re my omega,” Harry said. He kissed him again, more softly now. His lips moved to Louis’ cheek and then just beside his eyes and his forehead, moving all over his face and down to his neck. He hoisted Louis up and Louis immediately wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist, draping his arms over his broad shoulders.

“I swear. I didn’t come just so you could fuck me,” Louis mumbled between kisses as Harry carried him to his bedroom.

“But I’m going to,” Harry said, moving his lips to Louis’ neck, teeth nipping his skin like they had before. “Gonna fuck you so good, Lou,” Harry murmured against his feverish skin. “And knot you, over and over, all night long.”

Louis got dizzy from Harry’s words and the deep rasp of them in his ear. So when they reached Harry’s room and he lowered Louis to the ground, Louis kept his hand tight on Harry's arm for support. Harry got Louis’ jumper up and over his head. For a minute, he simply admired Louis’ body, running his hand across Louis’ chest and down his abs. Louis didn't even feel self-conscious, not with Harry’s gaze and touch spreading over him. Harry pushed Louis' trackies and pants down along with his pants all the way down to his feet so Louis could step out of them, leaving himself completely naked. He backed Louis into the bed until he was forced to sit down and stare up at Harry eagerly.

Harry pulled his own shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Louis shifted to his knees on the bed, shuffling forward so he was close enough to kiss Harry again and sneak his hands down to brush over the hardened length straining against Harry’s zipper. Louis unfastened Harry’s jeans and Harry pushed them down his legs and kicked them off. Louis got back down on all fours and scooted back, making room for Harry. He started to turn over, his eyes never leaving Harry’s, but Harry shook his head.

“Stay like that,” Harry said. He climbed up onto the bed, positioning himself directly behind Louis.

Louis arched his back further, arse high in the air in open invitation. Harry took hold of his bum, running his hands up and down Louis' cheeks. He dipped his thumbs into Louis' crease, the tips coming away wet with his slick. Harry leaned over and pressed a kiss to Louis' lower back.

"Harry, come on," Louis whined.

Harry's hands slid to Louis' hips and he squeezed, "Patience." He ran his hands back down Louis’ thighs, fingers ghosting over his skin, before returning to his bum. Louis had no idea what he was doing. He waited somewhat patiently like he’d been instructed but he was growing more frustrated by the minute. He wanted Harry to fuck him until they were both sore and spent. He wanted to feel Harry knotting him up and spilling his cum inside him and none of that was happening. He knew most of his frustration was due to his heat lurking on the edges of his consciousness but even so. Was it really so hard to get dicked down around here? Was he asking for too much?

Without warning, Harry buried his face between Louis’ cheeks and all of the drivel in Louis' head disintegrated. He felt Harry push his tongue against his hole and then lick upward through his crease and Louis dropped his face into the mattress, stifling a loud moan. He couldn't even hold his body up anymore but Harry took hold of his hips, kept him right on his mouth like he wanted. He alternated mercilessly between sucking on Louis' rim and fucking into him with his tongue and eventually his fingers, one, two, then three. Louis was close to actual tears from the overwhelming amount of pleasure building up in his body, worried he would explode at any moment, and Harry hadn’t even knotted him yet.

Louis couldn’t think straight, couldn’t speak coherently. His body was on fire and he still needed more. “Harry,” he pleaded. It was the only thing he knew how to pronounce anymore, repeating on an endless loop in his head. Every nerve and muscle in his body felt charged like live wire.

Harry finally took mercy on him, righting himself but never releasing his hold on Louis’ hips. “You taste so good, babe,” Harry said as he repositioned himself, lining his dick up with Louis’ hole, which was already wet once again.

Louis couldn’t even respond. He could only communicate with his body at this point and even that was a feat given how limp he felt. Still, he spread his legs a bit more, arched his back and pushed back against Harry’s cock.

“I know, I know,” Harry said.

He nudged forward past Louis’ rim, inching deeper and deeper into him until his pelvis met Louis’ bum and Louis had the entire length of Harry’s thick cock buried in his arse. Like last time, Louis felt instantly gratified by Harry filling him up and relief flooded his body. Harry gave him a moment to adjust, not that he needed it, but Harry was too thoughtful not to. He withdrew after a moment and immediately pushed back into the tight heat of Louis’ bum. He got to working up a rhythm, snapping and rolling his hips while Louis released breathy gasps and melodious moans.

After one especially effective stroke, Harry found the right angle to hit Louis’ prostate and made sure afterwards to hit it every time. He ran a hand up along Louis’ back, caressing his flushed skin. He leaned over him, caging Louis’ smaller body with his own, kissing Louis shoulder blade and nosing over to Louis’ neck. All the while he was still pumping into him, working his cock in and out. He felt the space just above his balls beginning to expand, while simultaneously his orgasm loomed closer and closer. He ran his teeth along Louis’ neck, nibbling and sucking a bruise into his skin.

“I’m gonna…” Louis tried to say. “Harry. I want it. Please.”

He didn’t need to speak proper English for Harry to understand him. This time, there was no reason for Harry to deny Louis of his knot and really, why would Harry ever want to. Harry quickened his pace while shortening his thrusts since his knot was growing fatter by the second. They were both breathing in loud spurts. Louis’ head was bowed, his hair damp and falling over his face. He was pushing back eagerly to meet Harry’s thrust, balling his fists into the sheets.

With an exceptionally loud moan, Louis’ orgasm took hold on him, painting white bands across his stomach and onto Harry’s sheets. He was clenching tightly around Harry as his dick continued to pulse out his load and the pressure was too much for Harry and with one final thrust, he came too, securing himself inside of his mate.

The thought seemed to occur to them both at the same time, as they sank down into a spooning position and Harry held Louis close. Harry was still filling him up with cum and there was so much of it Louis kind of wondered where it all went. His heat had subsided and he could finally think clearly and one particular thought stood out to him, the same thought running through Harry’s head as well. Louis was Harry’s mate. Harry was Louis’. And they were actually, officially mated.

To be honest, Louis had been expecting something bizarre or supernatural to happen once they bonded. As if maybe he would be able to hear Harry’s thoughts now or feel exactly what he was feeling. But the effect was more muted, though equally remarkable. He felt suddenly like if his entire life was one enormous equation, then Harry Styles was the only solution. He felt like he was apart of a two-piece puzzle and Harry was the only other piece that would fit. And he knew with absolute certainty that there was no way they wouldn’t make it because he couldn’t even picture his life without Harry.

“You alright?” Harry asked Louis quietly.

Louis nodded, running his fingers along Harry’s forearm. He said, “Aside from there being spunk drying on my stomach, I’m more than alright.”

Harry smiled, though Louis couldn’t see it because he wasn’t facing him. “We’ll get you all cleaned up once we can move again.”

“It’s alright. Feels nice actually,” Louis said.

“The spunk?” Harry wondered.

Louis laughed. “No, Jesus, Harry. Your knot.”

“Oh,” Harry said. He nuzzled against the nape of Louis’ neck. “It does feel quite nice being stuck inside you.”

“Is there any place you’d rather be?” Louis said.

“Not a chance,” Harry replied.

Louis laughed quietly and then said, “How long does this normally take?” Harry had stopped coming about a minute ago. But his knot hadn’t gone down completely, thus they were still bound together. Louis felt Harry shrug.

“Another minute or so, maybe,” Harry said. Louis nodded in response but he didn’t make it that long. Before a minute was up, he’d already fallen asleep. Harry pulled out of him slowly, retrieved a wet flannel and did the best he could wiping Louis clean. Then he returned to bed, ignoring how sticky his sheets were. It’d be best not to change them for the next few days. He pulled Louis close again and before he knew it, he’d drifted off too.

* * *

 

Harry woke to the feeling of someone perched in his lap. For just the fraction of a second, he panicked, imagining some deranged fan had finally cracked the code to the front gate and picked his locks and was now seated in his lap. For all he knew his hands were already handcuffed to the bedpost. Then his consciousness returned and two things became clear. First, he didn’t have a bedpost. Second, he was mated and in the next half second, his vision cleared completely and he settled his eyes on Louis seated on top of him.

“Harry,” he said, his voice beautifully broken from the second wave of his heat. “I need you to…”

Harry sat up, moved to action by his mate’s implied pleas. He slid his hands around Louis to grasp his bum.

“I like being woken up like this,” Harry said into Louis’ ear. Louis didn’t have the strength to speak but he laughed or maybe that was just a moan. Harry wasn’t quite sure. Louis bit at the skin of Harry’s shoulder, licked along his neck, mouth moving to his ear to nibble on his earlobe.

“Harry,” he whined. “Fuck me. I need you to. Please.” Louis kissed him again, sucking Harry’s lips into his mouth.

Harry ran his finger down Louis’ hole and with his other hand grabbed his own cock. He disconnected their lips so that he could speak against Louis’ lips. “Sit on my cock,” he instructed.

“Yes, fuck yes,” Louis said, pressing both palms into Harry’s shoulders for leverage so he could lift his arse up. Harry helped him, lining his dick up with Louis’ entrance so all he had to do was sink back down on him. Louis moaned from the momentary feeling of relief, as Harry slipped inside of him. But the fire in his veins was back instantly, prompting him to roll his hips forward.

Harry squeezed Louis’ bum, filling his palms, and used his hold to intensify each thrust of Louis’ hips. They kissed again, tongues pushing against each other, biting, sucking on each other’s lips. Louis gripped Harry’s curls both for leverage and because he was feeling particularly animalistic. With his other hand, he was digging his nail into Harry’s back, drawing red lines on Harry’s pale skin. Harry released what sounded like a cross between a feral growl and a ruined moan. He started fucking up into Louis’, trying to match each little roll of Louis’ hips, though they had grown erratic from his nearing orgasm. Eventually he stopped moving altogether, trusting Harry to finish the job for him. His head was thrown back, neck bared and lips parted. Harry bit into the skin and Louis’ neck, hard enough to draw blood, and just like that Louis was coming again, this time all over Harry’s chest and abs.

With a few more thrusts, Harry came too, once again binding himself with Louis. They both took deep breaths of air as they came down from the high. Louis collapsed against Harry’s chest, not minding the come there. Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’ again, running his hands across Louis’ back.

“Two minutes,” Harry said. “That’s how long it takes.”

Louis picked his head up from Harry’s chest so that he could look at him. “How about this time for sure we take a shower? And then you can make something for us to eat?”

“How about pizza?” Harry suggested.

Louis looked at him, mystified. “How about yes?”

* * *

 

Louis’ heat had lasted about a day and a half, which was record time for him, and he berated himself for not mating Harry sooner if that was how it would always be. He should have mated Harry sooner for a lot of reasons, the most important one being that he’d been depriving himself of the greatest love for far too long. But now that he had, he was bouncing off the metaphorical walls of his mind, filled with joy and excitement. You couldn’t tell from the outside because his heat had exhausted him and all he wanted to do was just sit around with Harry all day long.

His last wave had started right around breakfast. Harry had been fixing Louis a fry-up and humming to himself while Louis watched and listened. Maybe it was the fact that Harry wasn’t wearing a shirt? Or perhaps the smell of sausage, eggs, and baked beans permeating the kitchen? Any number of things could be a trigger for an Omega in the midst of his heat. Louis wasn’t sure what it had been this time. All he knew was that one minute he’d been innocently admiring Harry’s cooking skills and the next he was wrapping his arms around Harry’s midsection, biting on his shoulder blade, and whining Harry’s name, ultimately getting Harry to fuck him right on the kitchen counter. Bit unsanitary but who would know?

And that had been the end of what was perhaps the best five or six shags of his entire life.

Later on, they were sprawled on the sofa, wearing nothing but briefs and watching Bridge to Terabithia because Harry had never seen it and Louis wanted Harry to understand why he thought it was an awful film. Outside, the sun had set over a foot or two of fresh snow and inside, Louis sat with his right leg hooked over Harry’s left, in front of the telly and a somber fire. Harry had his hair pulled back with a navy polka-dot head wrap.

They were nursing bottles of beer and every now and then, flicking popcorn at each other. Sometimes, Louis would turn his head slightly just to study Harry’s profile. But then Harry would turn his head too probably because he also wanted to stare at Louis, and their eyes would meet and maybe one of them would stick their tongue out at the other. The third time this happened, Harry leaned over to him, not caring that the angle was wrong, and kissed him. The fourth time, Louis kissed Harry.

Honestly, they would have to rewatch the movie at some point because neither of them was paying attention. Louis caught Harry staring at him with an amused smirk on his pink lips. “What are you smiling for?” Harry asked.

Louis shrugged, still grinning.

Harry nudged him. “Tell me.”

Louis leaned his head back against the couch, laughing airily. Harry probably thought he was high. In a way, he was. If Harry’s existence was a drug, then Louis was most likely addicted.

“I’m just,” Louis paused, staring up at the ceiling. “Really happy.” He picked his head up off the couch so that he could look Harry in the eye. “I honestly feel like any minute I’m going to explode and there’ll be blood and guts everywhere and I’d be okay with that because it would mean that I died of extreme happiness and that I spent the last few moments of my life with you.” Louis needed to stop talking. But he also didn’t want to. His cheeks were getting redder with each word but he just wanted Harry to understand what he meant to him and how happy he’d made him. “I know I’m being grossly sentimental. But do you know what I mean?”

Harry stared at him.  His face broke out in a wide smile, dimples appearing in his rosy cheeks. “I think so.”

“I’m really happy,” Louis said again.

Harry grabbed Louis’ hand, brushing his thumb over Louis’ skin. He brought their joined hands to his mouth, planting a kiss on Louis’ knuckles. “Me too.”

“I haven’t gotten a chance to say this yet because I didn’t want you to think it was the heat talking. But I love you, Harry,” Louis said softly.

Harry looked at him, his green eyes bright and somewhat glassy.

“Are you crying?” Louis asked smiling.

Harry brought his free hand up to his face, stuck his thumb in the corner of his eye and found that it came away wet. “I think so. Yeah.”

“You think so?” Louis raised an eyebrow.

“Sometimes that happens. I think my eyes have a mind of their own. They start watering when they feel it’s necessary,” Harry explained. “I think now is appropriate.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry confirmed, “I’m really happy too, so much so that I keep thinking I’m breaking a law or something. But, you can’t explode with happiness, love. If you do, I’ll waste away with sadness.”

Louis laughed, “I think you could turn that last bit into a song.”

“Could be our next single. Only if you write it with me though,” Harry said. He shifted on the couch and leaned in closer to Louis. They adjusted their bodies so that Harry could settle on top of him between his legs.

Louis smiled, drawing lines up Harry’s back with the tips of his fingers. “Let’s do it,” Louis said.

Harry planted a kiss on Louis’ lips, then his neck and finally his chest. He lifted his head to say, “Alright but could we have another go before we get started on that?”

“Haven’t you had enough?” Louis asked.

“Of you?” Harry questioned dubiously. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

Louis smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners the way they did when he was truly happy. He slid Harry’s headband off, tossed it aside, and then ruffled Harry’s fringe. He liked the way it became drenched with sweat and fell across Harry’s eyes as they made love. “Better hurry then. We don’t have all night.”

“You’re right. We have forever,” Harry said.

And normally Louis would roll his eyes and tell Harry how very soppy he was being. But tonight was different. Tonight Louis was stricken with the truth of Harry’s words. One day, they would have children and eventually those children would leave to start their own families. One day, Louis’ siblings and Harry’s siblings would be married and maybe if they were lucky everyone would make it home at Christmas time. One day One Direction would no longer be a band though Louis was certain that they would always be best mates and brothers. One day everyone they knew would wander off in pursuit of new paths, new friends, and new love.

But from now until the end of his days, Louis would always, always have Harry right by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will most likely be a brief epilogue in the next week or so. Keep an eye out!
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading. Thank you for sticking with me and my sporadic updates. I am so, so grateful to everyone who read, left comments or kudos, or showed support in whatever way they could. Honestly, I know you all must hear it all the time but taking the time out to support a writer is one of the best things you can do and it is so appreciated. Seriously, I love you all so very much.
> 
> I can promise that I am not finished writing ABO-verse fics. I've got a lot of ideas about where I want to take Louis and Harry next in this universe and I hope you'll stick around and maybe one day, read future stories as well.
> 
> Until then, find me on tumblr at stylinsoncity.tumblr.com.


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping to post some ABO oneshots at some point in the future. But for now, as far as this story is concerned, this is the end. Hope you enjoy it!

When Louis was younger, he spent hours conjuring up wild ideas and plans for his future, most often concerning love. You would never get him to admit it, but by the time he was eleven, he had a working wedding theme complete with music and entree choices. He favored a Grease-inspired playlist and as many Italian dishes as possible. He didn’t want a huge house when he was older, as long as there was enough room in the yard to play footie. He knew someday he wanted sons because girls were okay and all but he’d grown up with so many of them at home. Not that he didn’t want a few daughters too. He’d be happy for five, ten, twenty kids. This was his fantasy and who cared if he was a little greedy.

But puberty had other plans for Louis’ future. As it turned out, his childhood romantics weren’t as attainable as they’d always seemed, not for omegas anyway. Omegas were meant to be mated. They were meant to be domesticated and to serve their alphas. If somehow that wasn’t the case, the alphas around Louis never convinced him so.

Without even realizing it was happening, Louis stopped dreaming about love. He no longer sorted through the possibilities of his future with someone. If that someone even existed among the perpetual string of dickhead alphas, Louis would most likely miss him. Had you told Louis that one day, he would fall in love and get married and have all the things he’d ever hoped for, he most likely would have called you a liar.

But a decade later, he would realize that you’d been right.

Louis had absolutely not seen Harry Styles coming. And even if he had, he probably would have thought that Harry was meant for someone else like in those awful moments, most prevalent in movies, where a character returns a smile or a wave to a charming stranger, only to realize that the stranger had been looking at someone else in the distance behind them. 

And even sometimes now, when they’re eating lunch and Harry smiles at him, his whole face brighter than a million stars in a million galaxies, Louis will resist the urge to turn his head and seek out the person the smile is truly meant for.

It takes him a while but eventually he stops doubting that they are meant entirely for him.

* * *

Louis doesn’t leave Harry’s house after his heat subsides that night. He spends all of his birthday with Harry and promises the boys he’ll celebrate with them when he has time.

 _You mean when you can walk,_ Zayn replies in a snarky text that Louis decides to ignore.

He can walk just fine. Honestly. It isn’t like Harry has the most hyperactive sex drive and a massive cock that never tires.

Okay, so maybe Louis ‘s been fucked into the mattress so many times in the past few days there might be a permanent imprint of his body in Harry’s bed and yeah, maybe his bum is a little sore. But it isn’t like he can tell Zayn how much he loves it. He can’t say that he gets wet just from Harry coming home from getting groceries because he knows exactly what’s about to happen. Not long after Harry drops his keys on the kitchen counter does he scoop Louis into his arms and cart him off to the bedroom.

On Christmas, they do venture out of the city and back to their families. Johannah doesn’t need any confirmation from Louis. She simply pulls Harry into a hug and congratulates him on “locking this one down” with a not-so-subtle tilt of her head in Louis’ direction.

Surprisingly for Louis, when they visit Harry’s parents, Anne seems similarly nonplussed by the news. It isn’t until after dinner when she and Louis are fixing cups of tea that she admits, “To be honest, dear, I thought you and Harry were already mated.”

Louis furrows his brow. “What?”

Anne nods, sipping her tea. She moves a little closer to him so she can speak softly, mindful of Harry in the next room. “You two have always been so close and Harry would talk about you so much. All the time, really. He went on dates, yeah, but I thought it was just for show. Thought maybe you’d both gone and mated and were afraid to tell anyone the truth,” she says. “But it also might have been wishful thinking on my part. I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather see Harry with.”

Louis hides most of his smile behind the rim of his cup as he takes a sip. Anne pushes the plate of holiday cookies over to him and he takes one and nibbles a bit off before saying, “He talked about me all the time?”

She raises both of her brows. “I don’t think we’ve ever made it through a phone call without talking about you.”

“What kinds of things did he say?” Louis scoots closer to her now to listen, smiling cheekily. It sounds good to hear things like this. He’s doing his best to stop doubting himself and more importantly stop doubting Harry. But it hasn’t even been a whole week. Everything still seems like a dream and Louis feels that if he doesn’t have constant reassurance, he’ll eventually wake up.

He and Anne are hunched over a plate of cookies as she recalls Harry’s numerous rants about Louis’ pranks, Louis’ new hairstyles, or his football skills and they sip tea and laugh quietly. When Harry walks in, he doesn’t miss how their laughter cuts off abruptly. “Talking about me, are you?” Harry says pressing a kiss on Louis’ head and swiping the last cookie from his hand. Louis can really only glare at him for a minute before a slow smile spreads on his face. Harry is beaming back at him, getting crumbs on his chin and his navy jumper, Anne wears a similarly fond look as she watches them both, and Louis thinks it is a Happy Christmas indeed.

* * *

 

“I’m going to blindfold you now,” Harry says to Louis after pulling over to the side of the road.

Louis glances at the blue headscarf in Harry’s hands, one he’s seen him wear countless times. It’s been two years now since they mated and even though Louis has always considered himself to be king of pranksters, Harry has proven to be full of surprises and tricks himself. “You’re not putting that on me,” Louis challenges. He’s not stupid. He knows eventually Harry will get what he wants. He always does.

But that doesn’t mean Louis won’t put up a fight. Because he also knows that Harry will indulge him. Harry will pretend to beg and be at Louis’ mercy. He’ll let Louis deny him for a little while, sometimes for a long while, and then, once he’s had enough, he’ll simply take what he wants. Harry might be completely in love with Louis but he is still an alpha after all.

Louis has to stop himself before he starts down that avenue of thought and before he thinks too much about the many times he’s made a show of denying Harry only to end up parting his legs _for_ Harry. Harry’s never forced himself on Louis, probably never would, but sometimes all it takes is Harry standing too close and running his fingers along Louis’ skin and nosing along his neck and Louis’ resistance falls away much like his clothing. And he’s going to stop thinking about this now because it doesn’t strengthen his argument against Harry’s makeshift blindfold if his dick is hard and he’s moistening up in his trousers.

“You have to,” Harry says. “You’ll ruin the surprise if you don’t.”

“Won’t my own eyelids work just fine? I can just shut my eyes. See?” Louis demonstrates closing his eyes. He pops one eye back open to see Harry shaking his head at him.

Harry sighs. “Louis,” he says firmly. His voice is a little deeper than necessary, laced with a bit of his alpha timbre.

“That’s not fair,” Louis says, his gut clenching. He’s half-pouting, half-resisting the urge to climb into Harry’s lap. Maybe it’s the thought of being blindfolded but he’s suddenly, undoubtedly horny. Harry must know it too for surely Louis is giving off a smell in the small space of the car.

Sure enough, Harry groans. “Louis,’ he says exasperated and attempts to discreetly adjust his stiffening cock in the front of his black jeans. He jabs the window button, letting a bit of frigid air into the car hoping that will cool them both down and disperse Louis’ scent.

“I’ll put the blindfold on if we have a quickie in the backseat,” Louis attempts to bargain.

“And what happens when I pop my knot and a cop comes by and I can’t do anything about it?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “We’re out in the middle of nowhere, Harry. What cops?”

Harry considers it for a minute. Then he huffs, “No, we can’t. I have surprises for you.”

“Multiple surprises?” Louis wonders.

Harry bites his lip like he knows he shouldn’t have said that. “You are so frustrating,” Harry says. “We aren’t doing this now. After you see your surprise—”

“Surprises,” Louis corrects.

Harry huffs out a breath. “Afterwards, you’ll want me to fuck you way more than you do now. And I will, Lou. I promise. I’ll fuck you so good. If you just put on the damn blindfold.”

Louis stares at him for a moment, his mouth parted. “Bloody hell, you are so fucking hot when you’re frustrated,” Louis says, taking the blindfold from him. “I can’t wait. Maybe you can use this to tie my hands up too.”

Harry groans again, thumping his head on the steering wheel. Louis laughs as he wraps Harry’s headband around his eyes. Intent on ignoring how aroused they both are, Harry’s adjust the blindfold once Louis has it tied in place.

“No peeking,” he says, leaning forward and kissing Louis on the cheek.

Louis hears him starting the car back up. He rests his hand on the inside of Harry’s thigh and Harry hums comfortingly.

“Are we there yet?” Louis asks after they’ve been driving for barely one minute.

Harry laughs. “So impatient,” he says as the car comes to a stop. “Now we are. But you have to leave the blindfold on. I’m going to get out and open the door for you now.”

Louis nods. “This really is kind of sexy. Definitely should blindfold me tonight.”

“Maybe,” Harry says. “Or maybe I’ll let you blindfold me.”

Louis swallows. “Yes please.”

Harry chuckles and Louis hears him open his door and shut it. It’s quiet for two seconds before his own door opens and he feels Harry take his hand. Harry helps him out of the car and shuts the door.

“Alright, come on,” Harry says, giving his hand a gentle tug.

“It’s icy out here, Haz. What if I slip?” Louis says.

Harry snorts. “As if I’d let that happen.”

Louis rolls his eyes, or attempts to behind the blindfold. But he knows it’s true. Even if he started to slip, Harry would have Louis cradled in his arms before his arse could touch the ground.

Louis suddenly feels grass under his Vans and hums in surprise. “Going for a hike, are we?”

“Oh, shut up,” Harry says and Louis laughs. They continue walking in the grass until Louis hears Harry opening a gate in front of them.

“Or is it a cemetery?” Louis wonders. “Finally planning to kill me?”

“How on earth did you figure it out?” Harry replies, sounding astonished.

“I’m a genius, Harry. Bit heartless of you though to do this a few days before my birthday, innit?” Louis says.

“Only the worse for you, my love,” Harry says.

“Aw, bless,” Louis murmurs bitterly.

Harry laughs. A moment later, he stops walking and Louis slows to a stop beside him.

“We’re here,” Harry says.

Louis makes a show of looking around with his blindfold still in place. “That’s odd. I don’t see a thing.”

Harry sighs in exasperation, huffing out a laugh. He moves behind Louis and begins untying the headband. “Ready?” he says quietly.

Louis nods and then Harry takes the blindfold away. Louis blinks rapidly, letting his eyes adjust to the bright artificial light overhead, the color resonant of stadium lights though not as overwhelming. The grass under his feet is harder, like turf. Louis looks left and right, immediately registering that they are in fact standing on a football field, albeit smaller and secluded.

He looks to Harry, pouting.

“Aw, babe, I really don’t want to beat you at footie again,” Louis says sadly. “I know you want to win. But alphas can’t be good at everything.”

Harry throws his head back with a laugh and then shakes his head at Louis. “Unfortunately I didn’t come to play. Wrong shoes,” he says sticking out his foot, clad in his favorite brown boots. “But,” Harry says, his voice softening, “we can come back here whenever you like, anytime you’d like. Because it’s yours.”

It takes Louis a moment to register everything Harry’s said and then he grins. “You bought me a football field?” Louis says.

“Not exactly,” Harry says, tilting his head behind them. Louis turns and for the first time, takes in the sight of the house behind them. He stares at it, his eyes darting around the expanse of the back of the house. It’s built with red-colored brick and creamy white shutters. There are windowed doors leading inside, trimmed with blue and green mosaic. A patio of the same design, a pool, an outdoor shower and lots of green grass and trees in sight.

“This looks,” Louis says, taking a deep breath. “This looks exactly like the house in Spain.” He turns and glances at Harry. “I was crazy about that house. I would know.”

Harry smiles. “I know,” he says. How could he not know? While they were vacationing there a year ago during the summer, Louis couldn’t stop saying how nice the house was. He said it had nothing to do with the beach being right in the backyard. It was more about the architecture and the colors of the house. It was like a dream, he said and he could see himself settling down in a place like that.

Maybe Louis thought Harry hadn’t been listening to him. It was a ridiculous notion though because it seemed like Harry was always listening to him, always tuned into Louis like he was his favorite television programme, like everything Louis said or did was important. But Louis remembered saying those things a year ago and while he had meant them, he never thought they would be taken seriously.

Now he has a seemingly exact replica of that house right in front of him with a football field behind him that Harry says is his.  Which could only mean that this house is his too.

“Fuck,” Louis says. “I feel like my Christmas present is really lame now.”

Harry chuckles. “I’m not done yet.”

“How many surprises are we talking here?” Louis wonders.

“Two more,” Harry says. “But I’ll give them to you at the same time. One is a question,” Harry explains, reaching into the pocket of his coat. “The other is this.” He pulls a small box out into the night air, cradles it in his palm.

Louis looks at the box. The way his lips fall open makes the winter air chill his teeth. He closes his mouth, swallows.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m listening.”

Harry pops the box open, revealing the platinum band inside with a solitary embedded sapphire stone. He opens his mouth to speak.

“Yes,” Louis says before he can.

Harry tries to frown but his cheeks are flushed and dimpled and his eyes are practically stars for all the joy contained within them. “I haven’t asked my question yet.”

“Do you even have to?” Louis asks. “I’m saying yes. I’m going to say yes after you ask me too. And if you aren’t asking me what I think you’re asking me, I’ll just ask you. So either way, the answer will be yes.”

Harry snaps the box closed and cups Louis’ face in his palms. It’s a testament to how big his hands are and long his fingers that he’s able to do so while still keeping the little box between his thumb and index. Harry presses their mouths together, kisses him long and deep. Louis rests his hand on top of Harry’s, partly because he wants to have his hands on him, mostly because he feels like he’s losing control of himself and filling up with more emotion than he can handle. Touching Harry grounds him, even as they separate for air and look into each other’s eyes and Harry says quietly, “I picture us here in the future, when we raise our children and grow old together.”

Louis sticks out his tongue at the thought of getting old, making Harry laugh quietly.

“I know none of this really matters. I know that no matter what I’ll be with you for as long as I’m alive. But I think you deserve all of it. I think you deserve the fucking world, Louis,” Harry says, running his nose along Louis’ cheek and then pressing a kiss to his jaw. Louis releases a shuddery breath. Harry pulls back to look him in the eye again. “Even if it doesn’t matter, it’d still be the best Christmas present ever, if you’d agree to marry me,” Harry says and then adds, because he’s Harry, “please?”

Louis makes a face, pressing his lips together, and shaking his head slowly. “That’s a tough one, love. You’ll have to give me a minute to figure it out,” Louis replies.

“Lou,” Harry says.

Not that he even has to think about it but Louis does stop for a minute to do just that. He knows marriage isn’t necessary for alphas and omegas. Once they mate, especially willingly, there’s no need for further proof of their commitment to one another. But Louis has never truly forgotten the dreams of his childhood. Even if he thought they were impossible, he wanted them all the same. Marriage was the greatest of these and now here is Harry offering it to him and only one answer would ever make sense.

“Yes, I’ll marry you, Harry,” Louis says breathlessly. “Of course I will.”

If Harry’s smile can get any wider, it does to the point where it looks goofy. He slides his arms around Louis’ waist and simply hugs him. Louis hugs him back, burying his face into his chest and they hold each other. Harry turns his nose into Louis’ hair and presses a kiss on his forehead and doesn’t let go for so long Louis stops feeling the cold air around them. He lets himself be overrun by the warmth radiating off of Harry’s body and begins to recall all those wedding plans he’d made years ago.

* * *

 

 One Direction split two years after Louis and Harry married, despite the unprecedented success that the married and mated couple pulled for the band. Their wedding had been the most publicized since William and Kate regardless of their attempts to keep it private and even though they hadn’t deliberately planned it this way, the ceremony took place a month before their new album dropped, boosting sales in ways no one could have predicted.

When they’d returned from their four-week honeymoon, they agreed to do a few spreads for magazines and an interview here and there. Each time they did, the public’s interest in them grew. Never mind that they’d been mated for two years before marrying. Suddenly everyone from London to Antarctica wanted to know what their home life was like or most importantly, when they were going to have a baby.

Some of the hysterics died down overtime but for the rest of the boys it seemed like the band was no longer about the five of them and just about Harry and Louis. Which they weren’t necessarily angry about. If anything they were a bit jealous. After all, if Harry and Louis could find a mate, why couldn’t Niall, Zayn and Liam do so too?

It happened so naturally and easily, Louis thinks. They all talked about it, wrote their final album and toured one last time before parting ways on the very best of terms. And by parting ways, Louis means that they still see each other often enough and never miss birthday parties or family functions. When Gemma gets married a year later, they all show up dressed to the nines, and like true best friends, get on as if they’ve spent no time apart.

Not even a month later, when they are home and getting ready for bed, Harry mentions Louis’ suppressants.

Now, Louis considers Harry to be the most patient of people, which you’d have to be to put up with the Tommo on a daily basis. But it’s only been a few weeks and it seems like Harry’s done adjusting to their new lives without the band and can’t put the conversation off any longer. Not that Louis was avoiding said conversation. He was simply waiting for the right time. Harry seemed to think the right time was now.

“Do you think you should stop taking those now?” Harry asks that night. Louis doesn’t realize that Harry’s been watching him in front of the sink as he throws back the little blue suppressant pill and chases it with water. The door to the master suite is ajar but Louis has to lean away from the sink to look properly at Harry where he’s lying on the bed, the glow of the television illuminating his face. Louis isn’t sure he’s heard Harry clearly.  

He cuts the light off and leans against the doorframe.

“What?” Louis says tilting his head.

Harry glances at Louis, hesitates for a moment before he says, “the suppressants?”

“What about them?” Louis coaxes. His stomach does a funky dance as he considers Harry’s words before he even says them. Really, he’s playing dumb. When you’re alpha husband starts questioning your use of suppressants, he only has one motive in mind.

Harry shrugs, trying not to seem too eager or forceful. After a second though his façade crumbles and he sits forward, mutes the TV and faces Louis properly. “If you wanted to, you could stop taking them.”

“Okay,” Louis exhales. He walks closer to the bed, stopping when he is at the edge, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you want me to stop taking them?”

“Doesn’t matter what I want,” Harry struggles to say. He’s being self-sacrificial, Louis knows. His heart swells in his chest.

“That’s the only thing that matters to me,” Louis counters. He sinks his knees one at a time into the bed, climbing onto it and closer to Harry. He raises a hand to Harry’s face and slides down to his neck, feeling his mostly smooth skin aside from fresh stubble. “Do you want me to stop taking them?” he repeats quietly, his eyes darting from his hand on Harry’s neck to Harry’s intent gaze.

Harry raises his own hand, stroking Louis’ cheek and Louis’ eyes close as he leans into the touch. He waits patiently for Harry’s answer. Even though he already knows the answer, he still wants to hear Harry say it. But his heart is beating so loudly, too loudly in his ears and he fears he’ll miss it.

“Yes,” Harry says. “I want you to stop taking them.”

Louis opens his eyes and smiles slowly.

“I really want you to stop taking them,” Harry says. “So we can finally have a child. Children. Lots of them.”

Louis’ next breath is shaky. “Easy there, Captain von Trapp,” he mutters. “How many are we talking?”

“Like twenty,” Harry replies laughing. “And they’ll be brilliant singers. All of them. I want each of them to have your eyes and your smile and your fucking adorable nose.”

Louis purses his lips. “They can’t all look like me.”

“Yes, they can,” Harry says. “It’d be a shame if they didn’t.”

Louis shakes his head, even though his cheeks are heated. He’s not sure if Harry will ever stop making him blush. “No, if none of our children have your dimples, I think I’ll want a refund or summat because that’s just unfair.”

“So we’ll keep having more until one has dimples,” Harry says as if it’s that simple and Louis laughs.

They fall into a comfortable, pensive silence though they keep their eyes on one another. Harry tugs Louis closer until Louis’ climbing into his lap, straddling him. Harry wraps his arms under Louis’ bum, holding him much the way you might hold a child. And it might be a weird time to note this, when he’s almost fully hard and honestly has been slicking up since Harry started the conversation, but Louis has not a single doubt in his mind that Harry will be a fantastic father. He’s so warm and strong under Louis’ fingertips as he splays his palms against Harry’s chest. Everything about Harry makes Louis feel safe and well protected and he knows his children will feel safe with Harry too. There is no one else in the world better suited to raise a family with.

“I want to stop taking them,” Louis says, resting his forehead against Harry’s shoulder before turning his face into Harry’s neck and planting a kiss there. He noses along Harry’s neck until he’s at his earlobe, mouthing at it and speaking softly. “I want you to get me pregnant,” he says right against Harry’s ear, sucking his earlobe into his mouth. Harry groans, squeezing Louis’ arse and pulling him closer. “I want to have all of your children, Harry,” Louis moans as he connects their lips, licking into Harry’s mouth, suddenly so overwhelmingly hot and needy. He starts grinding downward, brushing their dicks together, not even trying to stop himself from desperately dry-humping his mate. “I want you to fuck me,” Louis punctuates this with a kiss. “And knot me,” and another kiss. “And fill me up as many times as you have to so I can have a child with your perfect fucking dimples.”

Harry moves so fast, rushing forward and pushing Louis into the mattress.

“Might as well get started,” Harry says before moving in and kissing hungrily along Louis’ neck and down his chest.

Louis can’t help but laugh, breathless though it might be. “I just took a pill.”

“Might as well get some practice,” Harry amends, sucking Louis’ nipple into his mouth. Louis laughs again, the sound falling into a gasp when Harry runs his teeth along the raised nub of his nipple. It’s not like they need any practice. It’s not like Harry doesn’t know every inch of Louis’ body better than his own. Not like he can’t lick and suck and fuck him until he’s bordering on insane and falling apart in all the right ways. But Louis doesn’t say so.

“You’re going to look so good pregnant.” Harry leans away from him, running a hand down Louis’ chest and spreading his large palm on Louis’ stomach. “You always look so good. But fuck, Louis, you’re going to look phenomenal.” Harry slides his hand down further and loops a finger in the waistband of Louis’ shorts and tugs them down.

“You’re going to be such a good dad, Harry. They’re going to love you,” Louis says all in one breath as Harry brushes the back of his hand over Louis’ cock. “Almost as much as I do,” Louis pants when Harry wraps his hand around him and strokes briefly. Harry runs his thumb over the head, all while pushing his own shorts down with his other hand and kicking them away. “I love you so much,” Louis moans, thrusting up into Harry’s hand.

Harry presses their lips together, sucking Louis’ lips into his mouth. “I love you too,” Harry says finally, kissing Louis again.

Louis’ digs his heels into the back of Harry’s thighs, urging him forward. “Fuck me, Harry. Come on.”

He didn’t even have to ask. Harry smiles, shaking his head. “Always so impatient.”

“And you’re always such a tease,” Louis whines, wrapping his legs around Harry’s waist.

Harry clucks his tongue, shooting Louis a disapproving look. “I’m trying to be gentle,” he corrects.

Louis glares at him, the intensity of it dwindled by how ruined he looks, his face and neck flushed. Sweat beads along his skin and pools in the dip of his neck.

Harry chuckles softly and takes mercy on him, running the tip of his cock over Louis’ hole a few times before nudging him open. “Jesus, you’re so wet,” Harry mutters as if he’s still surprised about how Louis’ body responds to him. “I bet you taste amazing. When we’re done with this, I think I’ll turn you over and fuck you again with my tongue,” Harry says, bracing himself on the bed, his strong biceps pushing against the back of Louis’ thighs and folding him nearly in half. “How’s that sound?” He thrusts his hips forward. Louis’ eyes flutter closed.

“Yes,” Louis moans. “Fuck yes.”

Harry grins down at him. The next time he thrusts, he pushes all the way until he bottoms out, filling Louis up with the entire length of his cock. Louis’ mouth falls open with a gasp and Harry leans in, pushing his tongue against Louis’. All of Louis’ moans from then on are muffled by Harry’s lips against his own.

“You’re so beautiful,” Harry says, punching his hips forward, the sound of his dick sliding in and out of Louis’ sodden hole almost as loud as Harry’s voice. Every noise they make in the quiet space of their room is obscene—from Louis’ breathy mewling to Harry’s guttural groans to the slap of their skin meeting each time Harry buries himself in Louis’ arse. “How did I get so lucky?” Harry says hoarsely, dropping his mouth to Louis’ neck and murmuring against his skin. “You’re perfect and all mine.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Louis mumbles nonsensically. “I’m yours, Harry— _fuck_ ,” he groans, throwing his head back when Harry’s next thrust puts his fat cock right up against his prostate. “Right fucking there. Oh my God…”

Harry laughs, pleased with himself, and moves his hands to grip Louis’ thighs, changing their angle slightly to get his cock right where Louis wants it. Louis reaches his own hands around to rest on Harry’s back, feeling like he’s slipping, off the bed and off the earth.

Harry snaps his hips against Louis’ perfect, plush bum, the tight warm heat of Louis’ hole squeezing around him like a vice.

“I can’t wait,” Louis rasps. “I can’t wait to have kids with you. They’re going to be so beautiful.”

“Like you. Of course they are,” Harry says back, grinding against Louis’ arse and hitting that spot head on.

Louis cries out, digging his nails into Harry’s back and Harry responds with a feral growl that only makes Louis’ moaning louder. Louis’ eyes are filling with tears, either because of Harry’s overwhelming dick or the thought of all that their future has in store. He’s not entirely sure. His head is spinning. He’s nowhere near his next heat, having only just finished one a few days ago, but his skin feels feverish anyway and he’s dizzy and drunk on the thought of Harry giving him yet another thing he’s always dreamed of having—

A family of his own.

“I love you,” Louis whimpers between breaths, blinking the moisture from his eyes. He’s undone by Harry’s next thrust, the hot expanse of his alpha’s dick filling him up in all the right places, and he’s coming, spurting bands of pearly white all over his stomach, all over the place soon to be swollen with their first child.

Harry pulls out of Louis for all of three seconds, turning Louis onto his side and climbing onto the bed to spoon behind him before thrusting right back into his heat. He sinks his teeth into the skin of Louis’ flushed neck, biting hard enough to draw blood as he fucks into him desperately fast. “Oh my _god_ ,” Louis cries as he shoots another load of hot cum, his hole tightening around Harry’s cock and that is enough to send Harry into his own orgasm so fiercely that he can only bury his face in Louis’ neck, pushing his knot further into the perfect heat of his omega.

They quiet down except for the sound of their rapid breathing as they come down from the incredible height of their orgasms.

“I love you,” Harry pants against Louis’ skin. “So much.”

Louis lets his eyes close as his heart rate slows. He rests his hand on the arm Harry has over his chest. After a moment, Louis begins to think Harry’s fallen asleep. He tries to turn his head a little to check, trying not to jostle their bodies too much as Harry is still secured inside of him, and he feels Harry press a kiss to his shoulder.

Louis settles back down, snuggling further into Harry. “You were kidding right?” he asks quietly. “About 20? Kids, I mean.”

Harry picks his head up looking over Louis’ shoulder at him. “No,” he says a grin spreading across his face. “Why would I kid—”

“Please don’t,” Louis warns.

“—about our _kids_?” Harry finishes his pun with a self-satisfied smirk.

Louis groans, hiding his face in a pillow. “Awful,” he says.

Harry chuckles, kissing Louis’ on the shoulder again. “Twenty is a bit much if we’re being serious,” Harry says. “But after the first one, I don’t know how I’ll be able to stop myself.”

* * *

“I think we should use blue sprinkles,” Violet says. “Because daddy is a boy and boys like blue.”

Louis frowns and opens his mouth to correct his daughter. He’s not entirely sure where Violet might have gotten that idea since Louis and Harry have tried to avoid gender norms where they can. Before he can say anything though, Lucy beats him to it.

“Boys can like pink too. Daddy likes pink,” Lucy says to her twin sister, punctuating her words with an eye roll.

“But that’s not his favorite color,” Violet objects. “It’s blue. Daddy doesn’t even wear pink.” Louis glances back and forth between them, opening and closing his mouth to interject every now and then but not getting the chance to. He thinks he probably looks like a fish and the girls would laugh and tell him so if they weren’t preoccupied with their debate.

“He does too. He wears a pink shirt to golf,” Lucy replies, shaking her head.

“But that isn’t his favorite color!” Violet says, slapping her small hands down on the table.

“Girls—” Louis finally speaks up. Up until then he’d been watching with mild amusement. But Violet’s cheeks are reddening and she looks about ready to dump the entire bottle of blue sprinkles all over Harry’s freshly frosted cake.

Lucy sighs exaggeratedly and in that moment, looks so much like Harry when he’s completely fed up with Louis’ nonsense. “Poppa, tell her Daddy’s favorite color is pink.”

Louis smiles sympathetically. “It’s orange, love.”

“Orange!” Violet exclaims. “Daddy doesn’t even wear orange.”

“I guess the cake will have to wear it for him then,” Louis says, smiling. “Why don’t we use all of the colors? We’ll make a rainbow cake.”

“Well…Daddy does love the rainbow,” Violet says.

“That he does,” Louis says, sliding all of the small containers of sprinkles and decorative sugar over to his daughters. “Have at it.”

Louis watches them select their first color of choice and begin shaking out the contents all over the frosted cake. Right then, the oven dings behind him and he turns away from them to shut it off and extract the breakfast casserole he’s had baking. He cuts a section out of the casserole and spoons it onto a porcelain plate and sets the plate in the center of a wooden tray off to his left. Beside the plate is a bowl of cinnamon granola topped with sliced banana, a cup of tea, a small vase with one single white peony, and silverware.

As he’s waiting on the toaster to pop, he listens to his daughters chat.

“I think the blue looks nice with the pink,” Violet says quietly.

“Must be why Daddy likes them both,” Lucy adds.

Louis smiles, placing the toast on the plate beside the casserole.

“I’ll wake your brother and then we’ll wake Daddy, okay?” Louis says, “You girls finish up.”

They both nod, reaching for more bottles of sprinkles. At this point, the cake looks ridiculous but Louis knows without a doubt Harry will love it. He makes his way through the house, back to the bedrooms and steps into his son’s room. He walks to the windows to pull the curtains open, letting light flood in and illuminate the wooden crib. He gently rubs his son’s back, attempting to wake him.

“Dex,” he says quietly.

The boy writhes a little and Louis smiles warmly, reaching in and gently lifting him into his arms.

Dexter whines momentarily before turning his face into Louis’ neck and finding comfort in his arms. Louis is sometimes still surprised about Dex being an alpha or he forgets for long periods of time before it dons on him again. The idea of having an alpha depending on him at any stage of life is odd for Louis. Dex is a little over a year old now and still so tiny and warm and soft.

Louis carries him towards his own bedroom, nudging the door open with his elbow.

As expected, Harry is wide-awake. At least for them, they learned long ago how being mated meant that if Louis leaves their bed, Harry wakes too not long afterward. The opposite is true for Louis. As a result, they never sleep well apart. When Harry is away performing or Louis’ away for football games with the club he owns, they Skype each other before falling asleep, laptops open on the bed beside them so that it’s almost like having their partner snuggled up with them.

Harry is currently watching a show on the television, one that Louis’ seen their daughters watch. Today’s episode seems to be all about primary colors.

Louis glances at the television and then raises an eyebrow at Harry.

“It’s kind of comforting,” Harry says in his defense. He holds out his arms and makes grabby hands for their son.

Louis leans onto the bed and hands Dexter over. As with Louis, Dexter squirms for a minute before settling down against the soft cotton of Harry’s white t-shirt. Louis presses a kiss to Harry’s lips and begins to move away, when Harry uses his free hand to grab Louis’ waist and keep him close. They kiss again, slower this time.

“I came to make sure you were decent,” Louis says against his lips. “I wasn’t sure if birthday sex wore you out so much last night you forgot to get dressed.”

“Says the one who fell asleep while I was still coming,” Harry says, pressing a hand against Dex’s ear, as if the toddler knows what these words mean.

“Forgive me if I was a little worn out after—what was it—six orgasms?” Louis says. “Especially with your monster co—”

“Louis,” Harry chides, shooting a glance down at Dexter.

Louis laughs. “Sorry, Dex,” he says to their son.

“How’s Olivia this morning?” Harry asks softly.

Louis smiles and glances down at his own stomach, eyeing the swollen expanse where their fourth child waits. They learned only days ago that the baby would be a girl, as Harry had predicted. In the event that they were having another boy, they planned to name him Oliver. But alas, Olivia it was. This would be the first time he’s heard Harry refer to her by name.

In general, Harry’s response to their children always overwhelms Louis. Raising children with him, even more so. But only in the very best of ways. Because like he imagined, Harry turns out to be the very best father to their children. As hectic as it has been, Louis has enjoyed every moment.

Once Louis got pregnant the first time, he and Harry talked so much about all their plans for their new baby. And they were pretty good plans too. But they'd been plans for one child, not two.

Like his mother, Louis had twin girls who were beautiful and perfect and _overwhelming_. After having them, they both decided to wait a little while before having any more children, just in the off chance that Louis had another set of twins.

It wasn’t much longer though before Louis was pregnant again with Dexter. And then Olivia. And Louis is already hoping that his next child will be a boy.

“Happy as ever, I’m sure,” Louis replies to Harry. “Today’s her daddy’s birthday after all.”

Harry’s smile is warm and wide, his dimples in full bloom. Louis leans forward, kissing him again and then pressing a few quick kisses to his mouth before reluctantly pulling away.

“You’re supposed to pretend to be asleep by the way,” Louis comments as he begins backing out of the room.

Harry slowly rests Dexter down on the bed beside him, before shuffling back under the covers. “I’m on it,” Harry assures his husband, pulling the blanket up over Dex’s small body. “Send them in.”

Louis laughs, shaking his head, and then slips out of the room. He pads across the hardwood floors, back into the kitchen where the girls are scrutinizing their finished work. Upon seeing Louis, they look up and ask him honestly, “Do you think it needs more?”

Louis looks at the cake, at the mess of sprinkles and edible glitter and confetti. “Nope,” he says. “I think you’ve done a lovely job.”

He places the cake in a container for later and then grabs the wooden tray. “Ready?” he asks his daughters as they begin bouncing excitedly at his feet. The minute Louis takes a step towards the bedroom, the girls dash off ahead of him. He huffs in fond exasperation, hurrying behind them.

“Happy Birthday, Daddy!” Louis hears them yell as they throw the door open. When he finally makes it to the room, he sees them, screaming and jumping on the bed like mad apes. For a minute, he panics about Dex who was sleeping on the spot their feet are currently destroying. Then he sees that Dex is sitting up, somewhat awake, in Harry’s lap, staring up at his sisters in confusion.

Violet and Lucy wrap their skinny arms around Harry’s broad shoulders, kissing him on his cheeks and he laughs and returns the favor, mumbling in an exaggeratedly groggy voice, “what a surprise.”

“Happy Birthday,” Louis says, carrying the tray over to Harry. The girls scramble out of the way and Harry repositions Dexter beside him so that Louis can place the tray on his lap. He gives Harry a quick kiss too before moving to the opposite side of the bed and climbing up to join his family.

“This looks lovely. Thank you,” Harry says to Louis and the girls, though he must know that Louis made all of it. He unfolds the napkin Louis placed on the tray and tucks it over the front of his shirt, making a face at his girls as he does.

“We have presents but you can’t have them ‘til later,” Lucy says. “That’s what Poppa said.”

“Did he?” Harry says around a bite of casserole, looking up at Louis’ questioningly.

Louis nods. “After we come back.”

Harry hums in understanding. “This is delicious, babe. Thank you,” he says again.

“Where are we going?” Violet says looking up at Louis.

Louis wraps his arms around her and pulls her into his lap. “Ice skating,” Louis announces, dropping a kiss on top of her head, next to the purple bow tying her brown hair up.

Lucy’s eyes go wide. “Ice skating?” And then she’s bouncing all over the bed and Harry places a hand over top of his tea to keep the cup steady, all while watching Lucy with amusement.

“Are our parents coming?” Harry asks Louis, peeling his eyes away from his rabid daughter.

“Yup. Gemma, Lottie, and Fizzy too,” Louis says. “And Niall. I know you said just family but he heard from Gemma and says there’s no way he’s missing out.”

“Niall is family,” Harry says, smiling as he brings his tea to his lips. “Don’t worry about it.”

Louis smiles, idly running his hands through Violet’s curly hair. Originally, Harry had said that for his birthday this year, he wanted to do something simple. No massive parties with posh guests and eager press like usual. If he could spend the day with Louis and the kids and the rest of their family, it would be the happiest birthday. Louis should have known that “family” would include the boys as well. Louis watches Harry start in on his granola and says, “I’ll get them dressed and ready. You finish up, yeah?”

Harry nods around his spoon as Louis scoops Violet up and she starts wiggling for no reason at all except to be troublesome.  

* * *

As per usual, Louis fills the tub up and gets all three children cleaned up at the same time. When he’s done, he attempts to wrap them up in towels but Violet and Lucy prove too wired to comply. They take off, naked and dripping wet and screaming at the top of their lungs. Before they make it too far though, Harry is there, scooping them up, one girl tucked under each arm.

“Do you know what happens to children who run around starkers?” Harry says to them after Louis shoots him a grateful look.

“No,” they both say in unison, trying to wriggle out of Harry’s grip to absolutely no avail.

Harry thinks about it for a moment, conjuring up something clever or scary. He looks to Louis for help. Louis shrugs. “Something bad,” Harry resolves to say. “Very, very bad. So bad that I can’t even tell you about it.”

The girls don’t seem to believe him but they gasp and cover their mouths. They settle down, allowing Harry to cart them off to their room, and decide instead to braid his hair as they go.

Louis and Harry get the kids dressed and pop in a movie to keep them entertained while they take their own shower.

Harry’s just finished shampooing Louis’ hair and Louis leans into the spray of water to rinse. He feels Harry press a kiss to his shoulder. Louis wipes soap away from his eyes and turns around to face Harry.

Harry raises a hand to his face and brushes his thumb across his cheek.

“How are you liking your birthday so far?” Louis asks him, placing a hand on the center of Harry’s chest.

Harry makes a thoughtful face. “Let’s see,” he begins. “At the very start, soon as the clock stuck 12, I was just finished getting my husband off for the third time that night.”

Louis feels his face flush deeper than it already was from the heat of the shower. He purses his lips, running his fingers along the tattooed birds on Harry’s chest.

“And then for the next hour or so…” Harry says, leaning in and kissing Louis on his jaw, close to his ear. “…I made love to my husband twice more and I think he enjoyed it quite a lot.”

“I think he did too,” Louis says, unconsciously leaning into the press of Harry’s lips on his skin. He hears Harry’s short breathy laugh right against his ear.

“We fell asleep, my husband and I, with my knot still buried in his perfect, little bum,” Harry says, his hands sliding over Louis’ arse, patting softly. Louis feels moisture beginning to build between his legs and he thinks Harry must know because he moans a little, running his teeth over Louis’ neck. “Did I mention my husband always smells like heaven? It’s incredible.”

“No, I don’t think you did,” Louis says, laughing. “Tell me more about what a wonderful birthday you’re having.”

“Right,” Harry says. “So I woke up this morning and watched a very entertaining show about primary colors and then I was greeted by my beautiful husband, carrying two of our children.”

Louis smiles at the mention of Olivia and the fact that Harry is always mindful of all of their children, even the ones not entirely present.

“Then I received a delicious breakfast in bed, including the best casserole I’ve ever tasted,” Harry says.

“The best?” Louis questions.

“The very best,” Harry insists. He runs his nose along Louis’ neck. “And my birthday is going to get even better because I’ll be ice skating with the whole family and I hear there are presents in store and probably cake.”

“Maybe…” Louis singsongs.

Harry chuckles softly. “And then later, when our children are asleep, I’m going to show my husband just how much I enjoyed my birthday and just how much I appreciate everything’s he’s done.”

“I’m sure he can’t wait,” Louis says softly.

“Neither can I. Which is why right now, I think I’d like to thank him for breakfast,” Harry says, biting softly at Louis’ neck and squeezing Louis’ arse.

“How—?” Louis starts to say but his mouth is then covered by Harry’s soft, supple lips. He moans, titling his head back so that Harry can more easily lick into his mouth. Holding Louis’ jaw, Harry changes the angle of their kiss and pushes his tongue deep into Louis’ mouth, drawing moans out him. Harry breaks away from him, dropping to his knees. Louis looks down at him as he presses a kiss to Louis’s hip, running his hands up Louis’ thighs and over his bum.

Harry’s next kiss is directed to the swell of his stomach. “Hello, love,” he says quietly, almost privately, but Louis hears him and smiles. Harry kisses Louis’ hip again, moving down slowly, his hand moving just as slowly, brushing Louis’ cock.

“Babe, we shouldn’t,” Louis says though he slides his hands lovingly through Harry’s damp hair.

Harry looks up at him, taking a hold of his cock. “No,” Harry agrees as he begins slowly pulling on Louis’ cock. “But we will.”

Louis whimpers, bowing his head and letting the spray of the water run down the back of his neck. He feels slick just beginning to trickle down his legs.

“Smell so good,” Harry mumbles, moving his free hand to Louis’ bum and slipping one finger between his crease. “God, you’re so wet. You’re gonna fucking kill me.”

Louis’ laugh falls into a gasp when Harry pushes his finger past his rim, still stroking him slowly with his other hand. Louis begins moving his hip slowly but unsteadily, unable to push back against Harry’s finger and forward into Harry’s hand at the same time.

But he forgets, stops moving all together when Harry sinks his warm mouth around the tip of Louis’ cock, down the length of his shaft, all the way to the fuzzy hair at the base of his stomach.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Louis hisses, pressing the hand not entwined in Harry’s hair to the tile wall to keep himself upright. He wants to sink to the floor of the shower. He wants to spread his legs and let Harry fuck him under the stream of hot water. He wishes now that they had dropped the kids off at their parents and opted to spend Harry’s birthday alone in some bungalow on the coast of Thailand, fucking for hours until he feels raw and completely undone for his alpha.

Harry is deep throating him and sliding now two fingers in and out of Louis’ hole and looking up at him with his perfect green eyes and Louis thinks that next year will have to do. What’s happening right now is phenomenal.

Still, he wants Harry to fuck him harder. He wants three fingers or four, not two. He feels bad for being so needy when it’s Harry’s birthday but he resolves to think that Harry wants this too. There’s never been a time Harry hasn’t been completely interested in pleasing Louis. Like Louis, Harry lives to please his omega and enjoys it. So Louis mumbles, loud enough to be heard over the shower, “Harder, please.” Harry raises both brows, still peering up at him as he sucks Louis. Louis pushes back against Harry’s fingers. “Please fuck me harder.”

Harry pulls his mouth off of Louis’ dick, licking his lips and smiling up at him. “Two fingers not enough?”

“Never enough…” Louis mutters. “Not in comparison to you…”

Harry laughs, understanding him immediately. “I think maybe I’ve got you spoiled.”

“You do,” Louis says breathily. “You’re so good to me, Haz. Too good— _fuck,_ ” he moans out when Harry pushes a third finger in to join the two he still has up Louis’ bum.

“Look at you, you’re so beautiful,” Harry says, circling a fourth finger around Louis’ hole. “You deserve to be spoiled.”

“Even on your birthday?” Louis says.

Harry slides his fingers out slow and before thrusting in again, adds a fourth finger. “This is what I want for my birthday,” Harry says as he thrusts his fingers into Louis’ wet arsehole, watching Louis’ face as he gasps and whines. “I want to see your face as you come.”

“ _Yes_ , make me come,” Louis whimpers desperately, his head bowed as he looks down at Harry.

“One more thing,” Harry says, his lips hovering over Louis’ cock. “I want you to come in my mouth,” he says, running the tip of his tongue over the center of Louis’ cock, tonguing the hole there briefly. “Can you do that for me, Lou?”

Louis looks down at him dazedly. He nods.

“Very good,” Harry murmurs before sucking him right back into his mouth. He fucks Louis with his fingers in earnest now, picking up the pace and snap of his wrist while bobbing his head and slurping Louis down. They don’t speak again. Louis can’t quite form words and Harry is mostly focused on the dick in his mouth.

It’s not long then until Louis feels his orgasm grow close. “Harry,” he says weakly, trying to warn him. Harry hums in acknowledgement and understanding but in no way, slows up on what he’s doing. He simply continues to suck Louis down hungrily as if he hasn’t had breakfast and this is the only thing that could satisfy him. Louis focuses on the feeling of Harry’s mouth and the constant press of Harry’s long fingers against his prostate.

He moans, loud and long, fisting his hands in Harry’s hair as he comes, right into Harry’s mouth. Harry swallows around him and then licks at the head of Louis’ cock, chasing leftover spurts of cum. “So good,” he says sucking cum off of Louis’ tip and licking his lips. He slides his fingers out of Louis’ bum and stands to his feet.

Louis tugs on his hair, pulling him closer so that they can slot their lips together. Harry reaches behind Louis as they kiss to shut off the water.

“What about you?” Louis says weakly, breaking his lips away. It’s not like he could have missed Harry’s massive erection.

“I’m fine,” Harry assures him. “Later. The children have probably set fire to the television by now.”

“This feels wrong. It’s your birthday and you’re getting me off,” Louis says while Harry steps out of the shower.

Harry wraps a large black towel around him and smiles. “I told you, this was what I wanted,” Harry says. “At least for now. Tonight, I’ll want more. I promise.”

* * *

The Styles-Tomlinson skating party goes as follows. Most of their close relatives are there, including Johannah and Dan, Anne and Robin, all of Louis’ siblings and Harry’s. Neither Louis nor Harry are surprised when not only Niall, but Zayn and Liam show up as well.

Louis is an excellent skater and always has been, so he doesn’t worry too much about falling and hurting the baby. But Harry skates with him the whole time just in case. At one point Harry does circle the rink a few times with Violet and Lucy but only when Louis leaves to see to Dexter who is sitting in Anne’s lap.

“You know, I’m a better skater than you,” Louis reminds him once he steps back on the ice and Harry is there waiting for him.

Harry shrugs, swinging their entwined hands back and forth between them as they skate languidly. Louis revels in the warmth of Harry’s hand. Even with gloves on, his fingers felt a bit numb but encased in Harry’s larger gloved hand, they feel significantly warmer. “I’m sure you are,” Harry says.

Louis won’t admit that he loves Harry’s protectiveness but of course he does. He’s never doubted it but Harry has proven to be the perfect alpha, husband and father, always attuned to Louis and their family.

Harry of course loves the cake that Louis and the girls made for him. He’s particularly fond of the rainbow sprinkles. “Beautiful,” he says to Violet and Lucy. “My little artists.” If the girls answering smiles are any wider, Louis thinks their faces will be stuck that way.

They all finish off the cake and soon after, Niall pulls out the guitar he’s brought along and he, Liam, Zayn and Louis lead everyone in singing “Happy Birthday” to Harry. They follow it up with a cover of “Sweet Disposition” by the Temper Trap and a botched cover of “Isn’t [He] Lovely” by Stevie Wonder with some first-class adlibbing by all of the boys. Eventually Harry joins in with them to play a few more songs, even borrows Niall’s guitar at one point to sing Look After You by The Fray for Louis.

It all goes even better than planned. They stay there until 9 o’clock and then clean up and leave a hefty tip for the rink owner on their way out. Anne offers to take the kids for the night and Harry hastily accepts.

They are quiet on the ride home, which isn’t normal for them at all. Harry does hold his hand over the center console, his thumb brushing over Louis’ skin. Louis doesn’t know why it happens but he gets wet, right in the seat of the car. At a traffic light, Harry glances at him, his gaze sliding down Louis’ body. He says nothing, simply faces the road again, and spends the rest of the ride with his bottom lip between his teeth.

When they make it home, Louis isn’t out of the car for two seconds before Harry has him in his arms and pushes their mouths together. Louis wraps his legs around Harry’s waist and his arms over Harry’s shoulders, coursing his hands through his hair. Louis’ baby bump sits snug between them, pressed against Harry’s abs as Harry carries Louis into the house and into their bedroom.

There he sets about displaying for Louis the full force of his gratitude for a day well spent.

* * *

Normally after romantic, blissed-out nights like this, Louis would pop open a bottle of champagne or a few beers and get tipsy with Harry. But normally after nights like this, Louis isn’t pregnant. He tries to get Harry to have a glass instead. “Take one for the team,” he says. But Harry has never had a sip of alcohol while Louis is pregnant. “If you can’t drink, I don’t want to either,” Harry always replied and that is his response now when Louis, who is curled up against Harry’s chest once Harry’s knot has gone down, offers to get him a glass.

“How about ice cream instead?” Harry asks. “We didn’t have ice cream with the cake today because the rink was so cold, right? We should make up for it now.”

“But it’s February. Do we even have ice cream in the freezer?” Louis wonders. He can’t remember buying any. Ice cream isn’t usually on his shopping list when there’s fresh snow on the ground and he can’t feel his face.

“Of course we do,” Harry says confidently. He untangles their bodies so that he can shuffle out of bed and returns a moment later. Louis thinks it’s an odd sight to see Harry naked with his dick swinging between his legs holding a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and sporting a wide, accomplished smile. He has to remind himself that it’s just Harry being Harry and not the start of an interesting new kink.

“I _always_ keep ice cream stocked,” Harry says climbing back onto the bed.

“I shouldn’t have doubted you,” Louis says in response, taking the extra spoon that Harry hands to him. He pulls a blanket up over their bodies as they sit up and snuggle close.

“Remember the first time I told you I loved you?” Harry asks suddenly as Louis brings a spoonful of ice cream to his mouth. “We went out for ice cream.”

Louis nods. “Not exactly happy times. I was a bit of a shit back then,” he says frowning. It’s not like they haven’t talked about it before but each time they do, he wishes he had done things differently in the past. He wishes he had accepted Harry’s love years before their ice cream date, back when they had their first kiss even.

“Didn’t matter. I was still completely in love with you,” Harry says breaking him out of his thoughts.

“And I, you. Just couldn’t tell you,” Louis replies. “I guess I didn’t believe what you were telling me. Then I did but I didn’t think it would turn out the way I wanted it to.”

Harry uses his own spoon to bat Louis’ away from the spot of ice cream he was going for. “But it did, yeah? Better than you thought,” he says winning their impromptu cutlery battle.

“So much better. A million times better,” Louis says attempting to eat the ice cream on Harry’s spoon instead. He’s not fast enough though and Harry gets it into his own mouth, smiling arrogantly. The next time however, when Harry scoops ice cream out with his spoon, he feeds it to Louis and then shamelessly watches Louis’ mouth as he wraps his lips around the metal and sucks the ice cream off. Louis bats his eyelashes at Harry slowly, focuses on using his tongue to lick the spoon clean.

Harry narrows his eyes at him. Louis simply smiles. He raises his hand to Harry’s hand and knocks the spoon out of his grip. It falls to the bed with a soft metallic thud. Louis unfolds Harry’s hand and slowly sinks his mouth down around Harry’s index finger, his eyes still trained on Harry’s lustful gaze.

He uses his tongue to lick between Harry’s fingers, hungrily, tasting remnants of ice cream that somehow got on Harry’s fingers, tasting his slick from when Harry was fingering him after they got home. He sucks Harry’s middle and index fingers into his mouth now and moans around them and that’s when Harry pulls his hand away and pushes his mouth against Louis’ with urgency. “So fucking hot,” Harry murmurs against Louis’ lips, nibbling and licking and sucking them into his own mouth.

“Come here,” Harry says pulling Louis into his lap. Louis tosses his own spoon away and swings his legs over Harry’s thighs, their lips still connected as he does. They aren’t wearing clothes and Louis is already sodden and stretched from Harry’s fingers earlier. So they waste no time, positioning themselves correctly for Louis to slide down on top of Harry’s cock. Louis’ mouth hangs open, his brow furrowed in deep concentration as he slips further down.

Harry thrusts his hips upward and a slow grin stretches across both of their faces at the pleasure rushing through their bodies. Louis leans back, pressing his palms behind him into Harry’s thighs. The position elongates his torso in a beautiful way, allowing moonlight streaming through the windows to fall on his chest and the hill of his stomach, as he rolls his hips forward to meet each of Harry’s thrust.

Harry has one hand on Louis’ hip. The other he slides down the center of Louis’ body. He brushes his thumb over Louis’ nipples, rubbing the nub between his fingers and Louis can’t help but whimper. Harry smirks, sliding his hand away from Louis’ chest and spreading his palm out on Louis’ swollen belly. Louis watches Harry reverently stroking his body and Harry looks up at him with his heavy-lidded eyes and they simply watch each other as Louis continues fucking himself in Harry’s lap.

It’s amazing, Louis thinks, that after all these years Harry still looks at him like he is the sun, the moon and all the stars in between. He can see it in his eyes now how much Harry loves him. He’s probably always seen it and now he thinks about how long it took him to believe what he was seeing and he regrets that. He regrets all the time he’s spent doubting Harry and doubting himself when all the proof he ever needed was contained in Harry’s gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Louis says quietly, moving forward to wrap his arms around Harry’s neck. He buries his face in the side of Harry’s neck.

Harry places his hand on the back of Louis’ neck. “What is it?”

“I think we’re perfect for each other…” Louis mumbles.

“Of course we are,” Harry laughs though it sounds like he’s still genuinely confused. He rubs a hand up and down Louis’ back, feeling his uneasiness and the tenseness of his body.

“It took me a long time to believe that, you know,” Louis says quietly. “And I’m sorry for all of that. I’m sorry it took me so long to believe in us. I’m sorry sometimes I still get a little doubtful. Sometimes I think I’m not doing my best for you. I’m sorry I’m like that and that it’s taken me so long to get my shit together. We’re perfect for each other, Harry. I know that. But I’m sorry for all the years I didn’t. All the years I could have been yours and I wasn’t. All the years you could have been mine.”

“Why are you thinking about this now?” Harry wonders, which is a valid question. His cock is still up Louis’ bum, after all.

“Dunno,” Louis says honestly and he moves away from Harry’s neck to look him in the eye. “Today I was watching you skating with the girls and I started thinking about how perfect our life is together. And then I thought about all the years I doubted that it was possible and I guess I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Harry ponders for a minute and then says, “Do you think about this often?”

“Sometimes, only on very good days. It’s scary to think that this might not have happened for us because of me,” Louis admits.

Harry nods, running his fingers over Louis’ back. “It’s scary for me too sometimes. Not for the same reasons though,” Harry says. “Everything I have or live for revolves around you. And if I let myself imagine life without you, I see nothing. Because there is no life without you. Losing you is not an option.”

“Harry…” Louis whines, thumping his head on Harry’s shoulder as his face flushes.

Harry chuckles softly, wrapping both arms around Louis’ back and holding him close. “It doesn’t matter what happened in the past. None of it. It doesn’t matter how long it took you to be mine,” Harry says, loosening his hold on Louis’ body. “Look at me,” he instructs. Louis reluctantly picks his head up off of Harry’s shoulder, knowing his cheeks are still rosy, and meets his steady gaze. “You’re mine now,” Harry says. “You always will be.”

Louis leans in, pressing his mouth to Harry’s and they kiss, painfully slow. Harry pulls him in closer using his hold on Louis’ hips and the motion draws a moan out of them both, as Louis is still snug around Harry’s cock. Harry drops his lips to Louis’ neck, kissing along the thick vein on the side of his neck and his collarbone, all while thrusting up into Louis again.

It doesn’t take long for them to reach their orgasms. Louis thinks it’s because of all the emotional talk and the sudden urgency in Harry’s thrusts. Harry wraps a hand around Louis’ cock pumping him in his firm grip, making Louis moan and bite down on Harry’s shoulder. He comes with his teeth leaving bruises on Harry’s skin and his eyes squeezed shut, creaming all over Harry’s fist. He rolls his hips still, starts snapping them forward against Harry’s own thrusts, clenching around him and the swelling base of his cock.

Harry moves forward, pushing Louis into the mattress and fucks into him so well Louis’ eyes roll and he goes boneless, whining and letting himself be manhandled, letting Harry draw out more cum. When he finally feels Harry coming and spurting white hot into him, he moans loudly because the kids aren’t here and he can do what he wants and Harry is still grinding against him, even though they are now locked together.

Eventually he simply collapses against Louis’ chest, unable to move anymore, breathing heavily for air. Louis wraps his arms around Harry and holds onto him even though their sweaty bodies keep them glued together. “Nothing else matters but this,” Harry says hoarsely. “You’re mine now.”

Louis thinks Harry should focus solely on breathing and make smarter oxygen choices because he sounds like he’s got a foot in death’s door. Louis himself is panting just as much and his heart is racing and he feels like all he wants now is to sleep, snuggled up next to his alpha. He even feels his eyes beginning to slip shut. But he forces himself to say one last thing, to reiterate what he’s known since he met Harry at X Factor and since he fell in love with him, since he mated him and married him and had his children. Just this one last thing…

“I’m yours.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. Too bad about the ice cream though, right? No one likes melted ice cream.
> 
> Thanks again for reading. It's been fun.. =)

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://alienproof.tumblr.com/) | [Twitter](http://twitter.com/stylinson_city)


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